Expectations and Exceptions
by dreamer4174
Summary: A/U. A Jane Austen-esque version of Finn and Rachel's story.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm kinda falling in love with AU fics, and one of the things that shocked me was that we don't have a Jane Austen inspired one! So preferably, I would LOVE for a much more talented writer to do this, but it kinda wouldn't leave my head, so I'll give it a shot. I'm kinda just gonna see where this story takes me. Okay. Enjoy!

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><p>It is a well-known fact among many that English women were praised for their culinary talent, their soft-spoken nature, their meticulous needlework, their amiability, their submissiveness, their gracious child-rearing, and their utmost devotion to their mate. To come up short in even one of these attributes was considered a tragedy and most likely doomed the lacking woman to a life of solitude and poverty. There are exceptional cases, of course, to this particular binding circumstance, but these cases have occurred rather far and few between. It was very rare indeed to come across an outspoken, awkward, gregarious woman and rarer still to find one whose aspiration did not consist of being the woman of an extravagant household and bearing three sons who had her eyes and their father's chin. Yet, Miss Rachel Berry was adamant in wanting much more – and she never hesitated to share this nugget of information to any soul nearby. Rachel accepted that she did not fit the perfect mold of an English woman, but her spunky nature would not allow her to mourn her seemingly tragic shortcomings. She was well aware of whom she was, and I dare say, she did not mind in the slightest.<p>

She was secure – perhaps even a bit conceited – in her vocal talent and relied on it to compensate for other shortcomings. Any party she was invited to that had a _pianoforte_ would have her make a beeline for the instrument and grace the other amused and sometimes irritated guests with her beautiful singing, playing anything from treasured church hymns to melancholy ballads to heartwarming _arias_. Not a soul could dispute her God-given gift, yet her overbearing drive frightened many of her peers away from an acquaintanceship. And thus the vicious cycle continued – she sang to ease her loneliness while they kept their distance from the outspoken, talented woman.

Miss Berry grew up in an unusual household. Her darling mother, Lady Berry, sadly died giving birth to the precious baby girl. The tragic event caused Mr. Berry much grief, and for the first several years of Rachel's life, he would not even deign to touch her, requesting that the family nurse, Ms. Susan Sylvester, take care of Rachel. Immediately after Rachel celebrated her fifth birthday, Mr. Berry decided that grieving his late wife was denying him the love of his perfect, beautiful, lively little girl, and to the relief of the entire manor, Mr. Berry begged forgiveness from the child – which someone at the tender age of five could not fully understand or give - and doted on her with love and hugs and kisses and kind words.

Following that blessed day, father and daughter were inseparable. He woke her each morning by singing in his strong tenor voice lovely Irish hymns or songs that he amusingly created himself. She would giggle gleefully in bed, and add on her own verse to his wonderfully unusual dirges and humorous ballads. They would then race each other to the dining area where they would strike up conversations with Ebony Jones, their lovable cook whose wonderful cooking skills paled into comparison to her beautiful, big heart. She had a daughter, Mercedes, that was Rachel's age, and Rachel delighted in playing with her friend.

Nurse Sylvester did not bother to conceal her disapproval of the connection between Mercedes and Rachel, saying that ladies should not subject themselves to associate with the common folk. Rachel would cheekily reply that she was no lady, she was a girl, and she would "associate" with whom she "darn well pleased, thank you very much". Nurse Sylvester only clucked her tongue in response and went back to scribbling in her infamous journal. This journal fascinated young Rachel to no end. She and Mercedes would devise elaborate schemes to steal the journal so they could see what stiff, old Sylvester wrote down, but they never acted on their plans. It is good that they refrained, I think, because the mystery of the journal was what made the game so desirable.

And like her household, her looks were rather unique, as well. She had lovely chestnut hair, but she knew it did not compare to the fair-haired beauties that she envied. She hated her olive skintone, fully believing that she would be much lovelier with skin that was delicate, porcelain, and, of course, _fair_. She possessed, to her great dismay, a little girl's figure with a small bosom and slight stature. Yet, her most despised characteristic was her nose, prominently gracing (or rather, _cursing_) her already unusual face. Though if one were to encounter her on the street, I daresay they would also notice her beautiful, plump, rosy lips or the dainty beauty marks that dotted her cheeks. Mr. Berry would try and dismiss her misgivings about her appearance, informing her soothingly, that she was quite beautiful just the way she was, and gentlemen from far and wide would soon be lining up to ask him permission to escort her to the most desired societal gatherings. As a little girl, Rachel eagerly accepted the fatherly doting, but as time went on, his once comforting words were not quite sufficient for her happiness.

As you may be able to conclude, her abrasive nature, the lack of a matronly figure, the friendship with a dark-skinned peasant, and her unusual appearance made it very hard for Rachel to make other friends. She certainly did try. She loved Mercedes, and was exceedingly grateful for their relationship, but she enviously watched groups of rosy cheeked girls and boys playing together whenever she would go into town with her father, and she longed for the day when she might spin in merry circles with the laughing children.

But this no mournful tale. Rather it is an epic story of love between an unlikely match. But everything about Rachel was unique – why must her romances be any different?

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><p>AN: So, what didya think? I know this was just the boring introductory…and I'm currently creating Finn and Rachel's first meeting, but I wanna hear some feedback, so maybe I can pin down what I want to continue with…it might solidify in my mind…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow. Your responses were really encouraging! To say that I've succeeded in creating a Jane-like atmosphere is crazy! Thank you for your feedback and kind words. I've been mulling this next chapter in my head for a while now…and this is what I've come up with…hope you like it, and enjoy!

I don't own Glee or Jane Austen or anything to do with either.

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><p>The very first time Rachel Berry spoke to Mr. Finley Hudson happened a month before she turned sixteen. She was making a trip into town all on her own – she had become very persuasive through the years and used her new skill to convince her father that making trips without accompaniment were not foolish or dangerous, but rather, healthy and important for an independently minded woman like herself - to purchase some new fabric and ribbons.<p>

The wealthy Lady Fabray was hosting an evening ball for her daughter Quinn's coming out to society, and more importantly, her becoming readily available for potential affluent, handsome suitors. Quinn was three months Rachel's elder, but in many ways seemed three _decades _her superior. For everything that Rachel lacked in appearance and demeanor, Quinn exceeded in tenfold. For years, Rachel considered her the perfect beauty with her angel-like fair hair and dancing green eyes. She had a thin, but lengthy frame and delicate, porcelain skin. Rachel watched – always from a distance – as boys, who once thought girls to be silly and irritating, began to fawn over the fair Quinn Fabray, practically jousting each other for her attention. Quinn was always very well aware of her beauty and did nothing to discourage the boys' affections. In fact, she reveled in it, taking advantage of the boys' foolish kindness to her. Rachel liked to believe that given a similar situation, she would never be as cruel, but much to her dismay, it was a prediction that was never put to examination.

Rachel was actually quite surprised that her presence, the estranged, peculiar girl of the town, was requested to such an event. She attributed the invitation to Quinn's mother who always had a bit of a soft spot for her, the daughter of Lady Fabray's late acquaintance. Now - do not misunderstand - there was never a visible relationship between the two, but every now and then, the wealthy matriarch would extend her thinly laced hand in a courteous greeting. Mercedes was always shocked to hear of the two's interactions. She had informed Rachel – in no uncertain terms – that the woman generally held someone like Rachel in great contempt and could not be bothered to even acknowledge such a person. While Rachel was behooved by Lady Fabray's attitude towards her, she rarely questioned it and gratefully accepted the polite gestures from the woman.

Thus, Rachel found herself with an elegant invitation, beckoning her to attend the social event of the season. Not being one to turn down an invite, she frantically tore through her wardrobe, hoping to find a gown adequate enough for such a prestigious event. With great disappointment, Rachel failed to locate such a gown. Mr. Berry, with a twinkle an his eye, pulled her aside to give her a monetary gift, claiming that it was an early birthday present. He urged her to find fabric and ribbons fit for a princess, and he would arrange for the material to be made in the finest dress that a girl of almost sixteen could ever imagine. Rachel gleefully kissed her father, made preparations for her trip to the town, and on the following afternoon, began her journey.

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><p>Rachel made her way down the weathered paths, singing a beloved Irish ballad to a wide open landscape.<p>

_Thou bonnie wood of Craigielee/Thou bonnie wood of Craigielee/Near thee I've spent life's early day/And won my Mary's heart in thee/_

_The broom, the brier, the birken bush/Bloom bonnie on thy flow'ry lea/And a' the sweets that ane can wish/Frae Natur's hand are strew'd on thee/_

Her song was abruptly stopped when she heard soft clapping behind her. Startled, her hand flew to her breast, and she turned and looked every which way searching for the source of the noise.

"Wh-who is there?" Rachel tried to dismiss the shakiness of her voice and continued. "I demand to know." She stomped her foot for emphasis, and her eyes grew wide as a tall, broad figure came into view.

"I-I beg your pardon, miss. I mean no harm. I just – I was listening. Forgive me for being so forward, but you sing very well." The young man's hands were sheepishly occupying the pockets of his trousers, and a blush crept to his cheeks. He extended a hand. "I am Finley Hudson."

Rachel eyed the hand warily before letting him take her own. He brushed his lips over her fingers, and for a very brief moment, she reveled in the feel of his lips on her skin. Realizing her reaction, she quickly pulled her hand away and looked down at her feet before looking back up into his questioning eyes.

"I am well aware of who you are, Mr. Hudson. Your father's Colonel Hudson. Your mother and Lady Fabray are very well acquainted with another. You are practically engaged to her daughter, and you pay little attention to persons such as myself. Anything else you fancy divulging, Mr. Finley Hudson?"

The young man stared at Rachel, mouth gaping and eyes wide in disbelief. His eyes narrowed and met Rachel's challenging gaze. "As a matter of fact, there is. I much prefer _Finn _to Finley. I am not engaged to Miss Fabray – although I _am_ courting her. My father is a _general _not a colonel. My mother finds Lady Fabray to be dull, pompous, and a little cruel. And though because of your insults, you probably do not deserve my acknowledgement, I do – despite your belief – know exactly who you are, Miss Rachel Berry."

Rachel's face flushed prettily, and her next words came out softly. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Hudson. It seems I had prejudices about you that are clearly mistaken. I hope you'll forgive my rudeness. Though I am perfectly content with my naturally bold demeanor, I was terribly impolite to you. Nurse Sylvester always tells me my tongue will get me into trouble." Rachel sighed before continuing, "I truly regret my rash outburst."

Finn nodded curtly. "Yes, well. Now I remember why I – as you so kindly put it – pay little attention to persons like yourself. Good day, Miss Berry." He paused before adding, "And though it pains me to say it, you sing like an angel."

Rachel let out a little gasp as he swiftly turned and walked away. Her eyes blurred with unwanted tears, and she wondered if what she was feeling was akin to heartbreak. This young man made her feel so much – even more so than usual. What she would give to take back her cruel words and accept his initial admiration with poise and grace. Suddenly the thought of attending a gathering honoring the esteemed Quinn Fabray made her stomach churn with uneasiness. Mr. Hudson had confirmed that he was, in fact, _very _acquainted with Ms. Fabray and just picturing encountering him again made her cheeks redden in shame.

_Will I ever learn to hold my tongue? What had possessed me to make such an unattractive fool of myself? In front of _Finn Hudson_ – of all people – one of the most handsome and respected young men of the town?_

Still, Rachel was nothing, if not determined. She finished her trip to town albeit with less gumption than before. She entered the dress shop and began her search for the perfect material. She realized she had one more person to impress, and she required the perfect dress to do just that.

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><p>"May I assist you in anything this fine day, Miss Berry?" Rachel spun around to come face to face with her acquaintance, Mr. Kurt Hummel. She grasped him in an impromptu hug that left him brushing off his impeccably clean dress shirt. Although they were not close, he was used to her unusual antics.<p>

"Kurt Hummel! I am very glad to see you! I must have the ideal dress for Miss Fabray's ball. It is _imperative_ that you help me!"

Kurt grinned widely. "There is not a thing I love more than designing evening wear. Come." He offered her his elbow which she gladly took, and they sauntered around the shop.

"I am elated that you have seen the error of your ways as far as your wardrobe is concerned! What has brought about this sudden change in fashion?" Kurt inquired.

"Well…I…there is someone that I offended with my foolish tongue – as you can relate." Kurt nodded empathetically – he, too, had an impulsive outspoken nature. Rachel grimaced before continuing, "I would like to leave him with a more favorable impression of me as I know for a fact he will be present at the party."

Kurt's eyebrows raised at the pronoun _him _and detected more than just remorse in her tone. "You _fancy_ him." Rachel furiously shook her head. "And do you deny it?" Kurt's eyes shown gaily, and he sported a teasing smile.

"You are mistaken, friend. I do not fancy Mr. Hudson."

"I beg your pardon!" Kurt shrieked. "Mr. Hudson? As in – Mr. Finley Hudson, son of General Hudson and promised to the lady of honor at the party we are currently discussing? _That _Mr. Hudson?"

Rachel smirked. "He prefers Finn, actually. And he is _not _promised to Quinn Fabray. They are merely _courting_ one another."

"Miss Rachel Berry, am I to assume that you not only insulted Mr. Hudson, the town's favorite young bachelor, but you possess feelings for the boy, as well?"

Rachel seethed. "Kurt, the only _feelings_ I have for him are ones of remorse for my deplorable behavior."

Kurt clucked his tongue, skeptically. "I sense you are keeping certain information from me, but I must admit – I am intrigued. Let us find some fabric for you that is worthy of _three _Finn Hudsons!" And with a colorful flourish, he introduced her to some of the finest, most exquisite fabrics she had ever laid eyes on.

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><p>AN: It was REALLY hard to limit Finn's vocabulary, because I wanted him to sound like someone who fit in with the times. I hope he still sounded somewhat believable. What I find amusing is I barely had to tweak Rachel and Kurt's vernacular, because it's totally how they talk on the show, anyway. Love it. If you guys have any suggestions, throw them my way! And I hope I have intrigued you guys…until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: SO! I'm sorry that I haven't been able to update sooner. But this is a story I desperately do not wish to force, so I have to wait for the plot to come to me, and I have to do a bit of research to make sure everything matches up with the place and era. In fact, the only reason you're getting this installment is because I was able to clear my head and think of this story when I was on the elliptical, today. So, my hope is I'll be more persuaded to go to the gym if I like where this story is going (and the feedback I receive). So you guys are encouraging my health!

The song that Rachel sang from last chapter is an old Irish folk song called "Thou Bonnie Woods of Craigielee". Also…if you want more of an ambiance, I've been listening to the Corr's _Home_ album, the "Becoming Jane" soundtrack, and the new "Pride and Prejudice" soundtrack when I become involved with this story. It helps.

And one more thing – there really is a town called Lyme (and after this time period named Lyme Regis). In fact, the area is mentioned very briefly in Austen's _Persuasion_. Perfect, right?

Enjoy (The feedback has been fabulous)!

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><p>When parties are held in the humble town of Lyme, they are nothing short of a grand affair. There were candles giving the manor a cheery glow to displace the otherwise gloomy emotions emitting from the place. The not-yet-sixteen year-old Rachel Berry gingerly stepped out of the carriage her father sent her in, accepting Mr. Ryerson's outstretched hand to help her down.<p>

"Thank you for the lovely ride, Mr. Ryerson. I would be much obliged if you waited here while I socialize. I will come out and let you know when I am ready to depart the party, sir." Mr. Ryerson dramatically rolled his eyes and mumbled an acknowledgement.

Shaking her head at her odd driver, Rachel made her way to the entrance of the house, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in her pale pink gown. She smiled fondly, remembering the gay time she had with Kurt.

He had insisted that she purchase the pink fabric – he said the color gave depth to her chocolate eyes. She happily obliged, secretly loving the color, and upon receiving word of the gown's fabrication being completed, she stood on a small, wooden stool for Kurt while he pinned and prodded and folded and fitted until he was satisfied with his masterpiece. Rachel had shyly turned around and looked in the mirror adjacent to the stool. Her breath caught in her throat and she moved her hand a bit to make sure the figure she was seeing in the reflective glass was her own.

"Oh, Kurt." She breathed, reverently. "I am…speechless."

Kurt snorted. "That would be the first of firsts, my dear."

Rachel giggled, and swatted at him before returning back to the mirror. The dress cinched at her waist, accentuating her flattering figure. The bodice was intricately crafted with lovely sheer lace reaching past the fabric to the cleavage of her breasts. The dress made her have much more of a bosom than she would have normally had, and the dainty translucent sleeves hung off her shoulders, giving a lovely grace to her neck and collarbone. "I mean it, Kurt. I look…I look…"

"Beautiful," Kurt supplied, a smile playing on his lips.

A faint blush tinged Rachel's cheeks, and she locked eyes with her friend without pulling her gaze away from the mirror. "Do…do I truly?"

"You, Miss Berry, are going to be the belle of the ball. Now, shall we see about your hair?" Kurt already had one lock of her long, chestnut hair around his finger.

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><p>Rachel shook her head free of the memory and pressed forward. She entered the adorned parlor, noting the exquisite wintergreen garlands gracing the mantle and fireplace. There were deep red candles lit everywhere and a hearty fire blazing. Smiling, she gave her white wrap to the attendant and thanked him for his service. To her surprise, he grunted and muttered something unintelligible; though she had a feeling his words were not polite ones.<p>

She took an offered flute of champagne and closed her eyes, wishing to savor the moment. _My first sip of champagne!_ She slowly opened her eyes and took a modest sip of the sparkling drink. Her eyes burned, and she tried to prevent the disgusted look that was threatening to reveal itself with her painted features. That action only caused her to choke on the liquid, and – to her utter embarrassment – she proceeded to cough violently. Once she was able to swallow the vile drink, she glanced around the large living area, hoping no soul had witnessed that horrendous display.

She locked eyes with the very man who almost dissuaded her attendance tonight, and she quickly turned her head, before he could catch sight of the deep red blush that permeated her cheeks. If she had only gazed at him a bit more, she would have seen the amused, almost warm smile that split his face.

"Rachel!" Kurt gleefully strutted over to where Rachel stood. "You look exquisite, darling!" He grasped both of her hands in his and leaned over to whisper, "So exquisite that a certain gentleman you have had the misfortune of meeting has not been able to take his eyes off you since your arrival was announced."

"Kurt!" Rachel hissed. "The man in question is right across from us! Please do not talk of such things with him so nearby."

Kurt snuck an obvious glance to Mr. Hudson and then linked his arms through Rachel's. "Come. You need some sustenance to prepare you for all the dances I hope you will have with me."

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><p>Rachel laughed wholeheartedly; her hand flying up to make sure her stylish up-do was still in place. A very quick, lively music number had just concluded, and the dancers, albeit out of breath, cheerily applauded the instrumentalists. Rachel found a perfect dance partner in Kurt and was ready for another song. Kurt, however, had to excuse himself and hurriedly made his way toward the washroom.<p>

Disappointed, Rachel glanced around and saw Finn Hudson in the corner, looking as if he wished he were anywhere but Ms. Fabray's ball. Before she knew it, she was walking determinedly to the young man.

"You look rather bored, Mr. Hudson." Rachel inwardly cursed herself for the slight quiver in her voice. "And do you not dance with Miss Fabray? I am most certain that you would make quite the pair on the dance floor."

Finn grunted, meeting her questioning gaze. "I…er...that is…I am actually...well…banned from dancing with her." He bowed his head, sheepishly.

Rachel looked at him with bewilderment. "And what exactly does that mean, Mr. Hudson?"

He gave a small shrug, and chuckled good-naturedly. "Exactly how it sounds, Miss Berry. The last time she and I waltzed, I stepped on the train on her dress and caused it to rip and well…" His face flushed red, and quickly looked at the floor, too embarrassed to continue. "After that unintentional exposure, she banned me from dancing."

Rachel tried to hide her grin. She did feel for the man, but that little anecdote was quite humorous, and she could not get the picture of a blushing Finn and furious, half-clothed Quinn Fabray out of her mind.

"And do you find that funny, Miss Berry?"

Rachel winced slightly at being caught. "A little," she replied, honestly. "I was just thinking about how comical Miss Fabray must have looked and I…" Rachel tried to continue but burst into a fit of very unladylike giggles, instead.

"And now you laugh at me, madam. On our first meeting, you insult me, and now, you make fun." Finn's expression was grim, but he unsuccessfully hid the gleam in his eyes, and soon he was joining Rachel, with a deep, hearty laugh that reverberated through her ears, and she hoped that she might hear that laugh again someday.

Once the two had wiped the tears from their eyes, and were able to regain their composure, Rachel's expression became serious as she addressed her companion. "Mr. Hudson – I do beg of your forgiveness for my rude behavior the other day. I have not been able to think of anything else, and I want nothing more than to make amends with you. I spat on your offer of friendship, and for that, I am truly ashamed."

Finn nodded. "I know that my father's name is well known among the town. I do not blame you for the information about me and my family that you misheard. And though you did fire some harmful accusations, I was not exactly merciful in my response. But, Miss Berry, I swear to you that I will not speak of it again, and there! Now, we are friends." He reached a warm hand to the young woman, and she took it, gratefully.

"If we are truly to be friends, I insist you call me Rachel."

Finn broke out in a wide grin. "Very well, Rachel – but only if you call me Finn. Now, my dear, do we have a deal?"

"Indeed, we do. And now we must rectify your dancing. Come! Join me, Finn." Rachel took his hand and led a reluctant Finn to the other dancers. She instructed him to join one of the two lines, while she stood in the opposing one, and they faced each other. As the music began to swell, they made their way to each other and then retreated with the rest of their lines. The second time, they grasped hands and circled each other, switching positions. And the third, they each wrapped one arm around their partner's middle and spun around, once more, placing them back to their original spot.

Something unexplainable happened while they continued the popular dance. Her entire body began to grow warm from his touch. The music seemed to grow fainter and fainter, and her eyes could only focus on the charming person in front of her. Glancing at her partner, she saw Finn wear an expression similar to what she was feeling, and she astonished herself by praying that this unavailable man might feel something for her, as well. They both unknowingly stopped their dance in the middle of the other guests, and gazed intently at each other. He lifted his hand as if to touch her hair but then abruptly stopped the action. He shifted his gaze away from her, breaking the spell that had bewitched them, quickly strode away from her, muttering a fast apology about needing some air.

_What had just happened?_ Rachel's dizzy head swam with many, many thoughts, and she sat on the nearest chair, her hand on her breast, trying to still her rapidly, beating heart.

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><p>AN: And….this is where I stop. I actually thought the party might just be one chapter, but I'd really like to just get this up for y'all tonight, so I break it down, yo.

If anyone can tell me of a risqué song that they know of that would have been frowned upon in that age, can they PM it? Think of "Push It" in Austen times. Heh.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Next installment, already? A good thing about having to cut my update short is that I get to post another one soon after…like now!

The song Finn sings is "Meet Me by Moonlight" by J. Augustine, and the song Finn and Rachel sing together is called "La Ci Darem Ci Mano" from _Don Giovanni_. Honestly, it's supposed to be in Italian, but I've had the _worst_ time trying to find an inappropriate song for the era, so pretend with me that the opera is an English one.

Hope you enjoy this update! Please let me know what you think, and I'm open to suggestions!

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><p>An hour later, Rachel found herself walking on the grounds under the pale moonlight, trying to clear her restless mind. She heard a beautiful sound and followed it until she saw the owner of the tenor voice.<p>

_You must promise to come, for I said/I would show the night flowers their queen/Nay, turn not away thy sweet head/'Tis the loveliest ever was seen/O meet my by moonlight alone/_

Rachel was taken aback by Finn's passionate voice, and she surprised them both when she found herself joining Finn with her own harmony.

_Daylight may do for the gay/The, thoughtless, the heartless, the free/But there's something about the moon's ray/That is sweeter to you and to me/_

If Rachel had felt anything at all while dancing with him, she felt it much more strongly as they sang together. She felt as if her heart was soaring with his to reach the moonlight that they sang about in the sweet ballad. Finn reached for her hand, and she gave it willingly. She watched him close his eyes, and she did the same, reveling in the bliss of the music they were making.

_Oh! Remember, be sure to be there/For tho' dearly the moonlight I prize/I care not for all in the air/If I want the sweet light of your eyes/O meet me by moonlight alone/_

Rachel had never mourned an ending of a song than she did at this very moment. Absolutely nothing in the world could compare with the emotions she received when singing with this man. This _handsome _man. This _kind_, handsome man. This kind, handsome man who – at the moment – was staring at her with an unreadable expression. And then – just as he did before – he snapped out of his stupor and let go of her hand as if she had burned him.

Refusing to look away, she murmured softly, "You sing very well, too."

Finn scratched his neck, nervously. "Do you mean it?" Rachel shyly nodded, giving him the courage to continue. "I am honored you think so, Rachel. You must know you have the most enchanting voice - and like you - I too, Rachel, have not been able to think of anything else since our meeting." His gaze was warm, and her cheeks grew pink from the intensity of his amber eyes.

Rachel smoothed her dress and then glanced back up at him, excitement shining in her eyes. "You and I ought to sing a duet." Rachel gleefully clapped her hands together, excitedly. "We _must_ do one. I insist." Giving Finn no time to argue, she grabbed his hand and let him inside the manor to the pianoforte. "I have the perfect selection. This song is all the rage in London, right now. To sing in London, Finn! Can you imagine?" Rachel sat down on the bench and warmed up her fingers before starting to play the musical piece.

Finn nodded, affirming to Rachel that he knew the song and nervously sang the first stanza, glancing every so often at his duet partner for reassurance. She gave him a warm smile, and he finished off the stanza with much more confidence.

_There we'll be hand in hand, dear/There you will say "I do"/Look, it is right at hand, dear/Let's go from here, me and you/_

Rachel was shockingly anxious while she sang the female lead's response. She had sung this particular song dozens of times, but Finn's captivating voice was beckoning her to feel things she'd have never imagined, and it took everything within her to recall the lyrics to the otherwise familiar song.

_(I want to, but it's not pure/My heart is ill at ease/I would be happy, I'm sure/But it may all be a tease/_

Finn and Rachel's duet was cut short when a very ill-tempered looking Lady Fabray clapped her hands loudly, demanding their attention. Her eyes were cold and angered, and she marched right up to Rachel, grabbing her roughly by the ear. She yanked Rachel off the bench and stood her upright before letting go of the girl's throbbing ear.

"How _dare_ you? Singing such a tasteless song in _my_ house while I have been _nothing_ but charitable to you, girl! You two sing as if to glorify Don Juan's scandalous and deplorable behavior."

"I beg your pardon, madam. I did not wish to-" Rachel desperately tried to defend herself, but the proud woman interrupted her apology.

"I will _not _have that here at my _angel_'s coronation. And have you not heard that the boy you have been _singing_ with is courting _my_ daughter?" Lady Fabray's eyebrows were raised, demanding an explanation.

"Yes, ma'am. I have. And I resent the fact that you think I have been nothing but a shameless harlot. If you please, we were _just _singing. That is what one does at a party, is it not?" Rachel's hand covered her mouth the minute the words flew from her tongue, and she prepared herself for the onslaught that was to come.

"You wicked, _vile_ girl! Leave the premises at once! I would have expected more from Lady Berry's daughter. But alas! I am mistaken, and here you stand before me, defiling the party that I have gone to _great _lengths to host. Do you not have ears, wench? _Leave this instant_!"

Rachel blinked back tears, and glanced briefly at Finn. Finn just stared at her open-mouthed, making no movement to come to Rachel's defense. She met Lady Fabray's threatening glare and left the matron with a final word.

"I will do as you say, madam. While I am very sorry to have ruined your daughter's party, I do not grieve the fact of no longer being able to participate in this affair. And my mother was a dozen times the woman that you will ever wish to be." And with that, a teary-eyed Rachel turned swiftly around and marched defiantly past all the other stunned guests. She waited until she was safely in her carriage – after informing Mr. Ryerson that she required a moment to herself before they leave the grounds – to let the tears flow freely down her face.

She thought about the events that led up to her dismissal. Perhaps she had behaved recklessly, but Lady Fabray directed not a word of accusation to Finn during her berating. Did she not know that the act was a mutual one? And what of Quinn? Rachel noted her sneering expression when she walked passed the girl. Did Finn not know of Quinn's meanness? Or worse, did he not care? And worse still, was she imagining what had transpired? Did he just not care about _her_? Before she could delve more deeply in her thoughts, the carriage door swung open, emitting from Rachel a shriek. A large, calloused hand covered her mouth, and a figure climbed into the carriage with her.

"_Shhh_. You must be quiet, Miss Berry. There's a bounty on your head, you know." The stranger's tone was hushed, yet teasing, and when Rachel discovered who the mysterious person was, she wriggled out of his grasp and started jabbing her finger roughly into the man's chest.

"_You_! You just _sat_ there. You let that woman belittle me in every which way, and you just sat there. What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Hudson? _What_? I cannot imagine it revolving around my well-being, because you clearly did not seem to care in that parlor. So, go on. _Speak_. Say we shan't be friends, and let me be on my way. Go to your perfect mate and her perfect mother in their perfect manor. You should not be associating with _wenches _like me in the first place." Rachel's jaw was set, and her arms were crossed and she dared not even look at her carriage companion

"Rachel." Finn's voice was calm and soothing, and it made her turn slightly to face him. "She should have _never _said those despicable things to you. I was so stunned at her words, that before I could do a thing, you were gone." Finn's lips formed a grim line. "If it eases your fury at all, Lady Fabray _did _turn on me the moment you left. She told me how completely irresponsible I was acting and that I was shaming my father's name. She blamed my "curious change in behavior" on my new friendship with you, but I know better. You were the only person at that party tonight who actually spoke the truth. I wish I had come to your aid. I do regret it, Rachel. Because you are a lady who deserves for her honor to be defended. I truly am sorry." At his kind, chivalrous words, a lone tear slipped down her cheek. "Come on, darling, no more tears." Finn whispered roughly and caressed her face, wiping away the tear.

Rachel froze at the intimate touch. Finn's hand remained on her face, but he halted his movements, as well. They gazed into each other's eyes for moments – maybe days – maybe centuries. That unidentifiable feeling was coursing through Rachel's body once more. At the moment, all she wanted was for Finn to touch her more – in a most _un_friendly way.

"You know you can kiss me if you want to." She bravely offered. _Please, Finn – kiss me! Kiss me, and touch me, and make love to me. _She barely recognized herself in her newly scandalous thoughts. She waited with baited breath for his reply.

"I want to," Finn breathed huskily. The sound of those three little words made Rachel's heart beat rapidly and her head spin out of control in bliss. Her handsome knight leaned forward and placed his hands at her sides. Slowly, tenderly, he laid her down on the carriage bench and gave her the sweetest, yet most sensual kiss she could ever have envisioned. Her eyes fluttered open at the feel of his soft lips on hers to make sure she was not dreaming. But _no_. A dream could not give to her the heavenly sensations she was experiencing with this man. She closed her eyes once more, and their lips parted briefly before he captured her lips again. Her mind let her body take control, and she began to arch her back to feel closer to him. His hands suddenly squeezed her sides hard, and he abruptly broke away from her, looking down at his trousers, and then trying to get out of her carriage as fast as he could.

"Did-did I do something wrong?" She was confounded by his behavior and could only blame it on her inexperience with men. _He probably likes to kiss Quinn much more than me. _She thought bitterly to herself.

"No-no. I just – I have to go. Please, just – no one can know about this, alright?" He gestured between Rachel and himself and swiftly left Rachel to the new sobs that shook her body the moment the carriage door was sealed.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Very, very sorry to have waited so long to update. In part, I had a really bad case of writer's block. I also had things in my personal life happen that left me uninspired. Like I've said in the past, I want this to be a well-written and thought-out story, so I was not about to force anything until I was inspired. On a humorous note, Finn and Rachel had to wait two months until their encounter was discussed. And I made you wait two months for another update. Totally coincidental and unintentional!

I hope you enjoy this chapter – though it may be difficult due to the angst. Once again ideas and suggestions are always appreciated. I do have a bit of a skeletal plan of where this story might go.

Thank you for your kind reviews and alerts! Keep 'em coming!

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><p><em>Two months<em>. It had been two months since Miss Berry and Mr. Hudson's painful albeit romantic encounter. Every time Finn saw her in town, he quickly dashed in the opposite direction, praying that she would take no notice of him. Of course, Miss Berry did _nothing_ to persuade him otherwise. He knew that she was waiting for him to explain himself. He was the one – after all – who broke away from the perfect kiss. It was the absolute last thing that he desired to do at that very moment. However, if they continued doing…what they were doing…she would have definitely _felt_ how attracted he was to her – and things like that just were not appropriate.

_After he fled the carriage on that fateful night, he unknowingly ran directly into Quinn who demanded to know the reason of his absence and proceeded to chide him more for his musical expression, earlier. _

"_Finn." Quinn gritted her teeth. "Your father has achieved great honor for your family – you are widely respected. And my family is wealthy. Together, we can rule this town. I do _not_ need your little duet with the trollop to ruin something like that for us. Now, shall we go inside so you can formally apologize to my mother?"_

_Finn's head was spinning. Suddenly, the thought of "ruling the town" - as she so lovingly put it – paled into comparison to the moments he shared with Rachel. Finn shook his head, desperately trying to free his thoughts of the beautiful songstress. _

_This_ _–_ Quinn – _is what he wanted. He could not believe it when_ _she ap__proached him with romantic intentions all those months ago. Whatever feelings he had for Rachel were just fleeting. He took Quinn's outstretched hand, and they made their way into the manor, so that he could grovel before the grim looking Lady Fabray._

_Fleeting. I wish. _Finn's mind snapped back to the present. For two straight months, Rachel haunted his dreams. He would catch himself thinking about the little moments he shared with her. He would touch his lips, sometimes, after Quinn gave him a sweet peck, and would compare her kiss to the one he shared with _her_. _What is going on with me?_ This is what he wanted – the status, the town's recognition, Quinn - all of it. But now…now, he felt that those things – _that life _– were far from enough. For the first time in his small life, he felt destined for more. And the unwelcome pull toward Rachel Berry did nothing to discourage the thought.

He wondered about her a great deal. He would sit down sometimes and think about what she may be doing at the very same moment. His thoughts would turn to her so often that they nearly drove him mad with…_wanting_.

_Enough is enough_. Finn nodded his head once to the statement, resolving to finally seek her out and put to rest the feelings that had decided to weasel their way into his heart.

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><p><em>Two months<em>. It had been two months since Mr. Hudson and Miss Berry's painful albeit romantic encounter. Every time Rachel saw him in town, she quickly dashed in the opposite direction, praying that he would take no notice of her. Of course, Mr. Hudson did _nothing_ to persuade her otherwise. He did not arrive with a bouquet of flowers at her doorstep or send her an achingly romantic letter or grasp her wrist in earnest while she tried to make a stealthy escape from him. And all of this told her that he was avoiding her just as much – if not, more – as she was avoiding him. And she did not fancy that _at all_.

_The loss is all his_. She determined defiantly to herself. She was a _very _important young woman who had _many _important things to do, and his presence would merely serve as an unwelcome distraction anyway. Still…her mind fluttered to that perfect kiss – much more often than she liked – and for that moment – that _heavenly _moment – she allowed herself to be carried away in the wonderful daydream, almost _feeling _the softness of his lips on hers and the firm grip of his hands on her waist. But as soon as the moment ended, her scowl returned, and she went back to her more _important _matters. Her sweet, but clueless, father attributed her new change in demeanor to not getting enough sun. Nurse Sylvester claimed that she was developing a rebellious streak – a very common occurrence in brunettes; mark her words.

Mercedes knew better. "Why are you wasting your pretty little tears on that – that – _scoundrel_? You are better than this, Rachel."

"I know, Mercedes. I just – he just – I just – I think I may have fallen for him." Rachel finished sheepishly and then burst in quiet sobs.

Mercedes's only response was a gentle hug and kiss on the hair.

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><p>Finn Hudson hastily made his way toward the Berry manor. He was anxious about seeing her, but he also really wanted things to go back to the way they were. Therefore, this trip was worth it on all accounts.<p>

He did not expect the glare directed his way – when he gave his name - from the colored handmaiden who opened the door.

"I'll go see if Miss Berry is available for you, Mr. Hudson. The question still remains if you are _available_ for her." She said through gritted teeth.

Finn was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

The young lady quickly clapped her hand over mouth. "No. Excuse _me_, sir. That's not my place." She left Finn alone to go find the lady being called upon. Finn should have felt offended and rage for being talked to like that by someone of her _standing_, but the guilt he was feeling over the whole situation simply made him agree with the servant. Before he could contemplate his feelings further, his thoughts were interrupted.

"Miss Berry, sir." The servant gave a curtsy and prepared to exit the parlor.

"Wait." Finn said to the astonishment of Miss Berry, the handmaiden, and himself. "What is your name?"

The servant was floored. "My-my name, sir?"

Finn nodded, smiling a little. "You obviously care a great deal about Ms. Berry, so it is only right I know you are."

Ms. Berry and the girl both looked at him with unreadable expressions. The girl finally spoke, "It's Mercedes, sir. Mercedes Jones."

Finn reached for hand and gave Mercedes a quick peck on her fingers. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jones."

Mercedes looked flabbergasted and stuttered her reply. "Right. Well, Mr. Hudson. Good day to you." She made a quick exit, leaving Finn alone with Miss Berry for the first time in two months.

"Thank you, Mr. Hudson." Her voice was so soft, that Finn thought he might have dreamed her words at first.

"_Finn_." He corrected, noticing her cheeks blush prettily. "And, for what?"

"Most people who come to call do not even give Mercedes or her mother a second glance. Yet, you treated her like a true member of the household. You talked with her as if she were a human being. I, for one, find the treatment of Africans here in England deplorable, and I hope that one day, things will be different. So – once again – thank you."

Finn looked at Rachel for a long moment. Sure, she was self-confident about her talent and she spoke with an unfiltered tongue – but she truly did seem to care about others, and her ideals about the colors were revolutionary. He had not given that topic much thought, but listening to her now almost made him inclined to agree with her. Snapping out of his thoughts, he returned to the issue at hand.

"Well, she did stick up for you when she learned who I was. I thought it was only fair I knew about her, too." Finn's smile was teasing, and Rachel hid her reddened face in her hands.

"Oh, dear. What did she say?" Rachel cringed.

"She may have implied that what I have been doing has been morally wrong if I am a taken man."

Rachel looked at him in horror. "She _said_ that?"

Finn chuckled. "Not really. But I could tell what she was thinking."

"Oh."

Finn simply waved his hand in front of him – as if to discard the whole matter. "Fancy a walk?" Rachel nodded and took the arm offered out to her.

"There is something you and I really need to discuss, Rachel." Finn began slowly.

Rachel's heartbeat quickened, but she managed to keep her reserve. "And whatever may that be, Mr. Hudson?"

"_Finn_." Finn emphasized with exasperation. "And you know very well what I am referring to, Rach."

"_Mr. Hudson_," Rachel's voice was alarmingly soft, yet held all the coolness she could muster. "How is your beau, Miss Fabray? I trust that you two are well?"

Finn sighed, defeated. "That's it then, is it? You and I are never to discuss what happened in your carriage?"

"There is _no _'you and I', Mr. Hudson. You kissed me, and then told me to hold my tongue – a feat rather impossible for me, and then I hear _nothing _from you for two whole months. However, I _do _hear from my dear friend Mr. Hummel, who says that you and your lady have never looked happier. Clearly, whatever trivial feelings that were present that night were not great enough to tamper with your devotion to Miss Fabray. I will _not _be a scandalous 'lady on the side'." Finn just stared at her, openmouthed. "I believe we have discussed what need to be discussed. Shall I see you out, then?"

Finn bowed his head. "I deeply regret my actions that night, Miss Berry. The question that still remains in my mind is which action I took that night that I regret the most. I still have not come to a conclusion. Nevertheless, I shall leave you alone. I hope that you will forgive me, and that we can be friends, once more. There is no other quite like you, Miss Berry." Finn's expression was downtrodden, but he managed a bit of a smirk at his last statement.

Rachel furiously struggled to maintain her resolve. "Right. Well. A friendship with you may just be possible. But for now, I must bid you goodbye."

And with that, Rachel hurriedly turned away from the handsome man and swiftly walked back to her manor. It was only when the front door was closed behind her did she let her suppressed tears fall freely.

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><p>Finn regrettably watched Rachel hurry away. His plan to put an end to his confusing feelings for Rachel backfired, and he was now more perplexed than ever before. He started his trek to go back to town. He entered the local tavern and downed some whiskey to dull the slow ache forming in his chest. Once the numbness started to present itself, he clumsily sauntered out of the bar and made his way to the Fabray home.<p>

If he had been a slight more lucid, he would have noted the stable hand, Noah Puckerman, give him a cautious, almost fearful look. He might have been aware of Quinn's frantic eyes when she led him into the house. But all he could see were captivating brown eyes instead of Quinn's hazel ones.

Quinn informed him that because her parents were out to town for the evening, they had the manor to themselves. Her suggestive looks went unnoticed by Finn until she placed a big bottle of rum on the parlor table. Rachel's words swam in his mind as he surrendered himself to the fleeting comfort of the alcohol.

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><p>Later that night, Finn woke with a start. He looked down to see that he was in an inappropriate state of undress. The bed he was in was unfamiliar. Something shifted beside him. To his horror, Quinn – in an equal state of undress – stretched a bit and turned her body away from his. Finn ran a hand over his face and tried to maintain his composure. He could not remember a thing that happened that night, yet he dreaded the moment when he would. He feared that his recollection might just consist of surrendering his virtue to Quinn Fabray.<p>

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><p>AN: Oooooh! What scandal! Any ideas about what happened? I think I know!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay! This is a short update, so sorry for that. But at least you didn't have to wait two months for it, right?

Are you guys catching on to what's happening? I bet you are!

The song is "Heart Like a Wheel" by the Corrs. I do think this is an Irish folksong, but I'm not sure if it was present during the times. It's just too beautiful to not use.

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><p>Finn jolted up in horror, waking up Quinn in the process.<p>

"Quinn!" He exclaimed. "What the _dickens_ happened last night?"

Quinn bore an unreadable expression. "Is it not evident, sweet? You and I expressed our affection for one another through by making love."

Finn looked at her, his worst fears confirmed. "Wha-what? But I don't remember – shouldn't I _feel _different or – did we really have _intercourse_ with each other?"

Quinn sighed, looking at him as if he were a small child. "Do not worry, love. You were a perfect gentleman. There is no one – and I mean _no one _– to whom I would have given myself if not to you."

"I – I just – I have to go." Finn hurriedly dressed himself, and all but fled out the door. Quinn watched him leave and waited until he was out of earshot before she sat up and buried her face in her hands, heaving uncontrollably with sobs.

"Did you go through with it, then?" The stable hand entered her bed chamber cautiously, waiting on baited breath for reply.

"I did what I had to do." Quinn frantically wiped her tears, while her voice turned cold and calculating. "He was intoxicated, and I took advantage of it."

"And you are sure – Quinn - that this is what you truly want?"

Quinn looked at Noah, sadly – with almost an expression of resignation. "Mr. Finley Hudson is the esteemed young gentleman of Lyme. I would be a fool to throw my union with him away, now would I? And now, this – tryst – ensures that he will not abandon me for that singing harlot. This is the only way, Noah. "

"Right. Well, Miss Fabray, as your trusty and devoted stable hand, I will do my best to ensure that happens." With that, Noah grasped her hand, laid a sensual kiss on her palm, and briskly left the room, slamming the door behind him to leave Quinn with her haunting thoughts once more.

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><p><em>You and I expressed our affection for one another by making love. Making love. Making love. <em>

Quinn's words raced through Finn's mind as he fled the Fabray manor. How could he have been so reckless? Granted, he was very upset from his encounter with Rachel –

_Rachel. _

Finn's heart plummeted. He could not help but feel guilty about his immoral activity with Quinn. For some curious reason that he could not explain, his night with Quinn seemed like infidelity. What was he going to tell this exquisite girl whom has – unbeknowingstly – captured his heart?

He would say nothing. He could not bear to see the disappointed look in her striking eyes.

The odd thing was that he _still _could not remember making love with Quinn. He recalled feeling rejected by Rachel and going to call on Quinn. He remembered becoming slowly intoxicated, urging himself to forget about the brunette beauty. – But that was it. What was he missing? With all these trouble thoughts swarming in his mind, he proceeded to crouch down and heave the contents from the fateful night before.

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><p>"Rachel, Mr. Hudson is here once more to see you."<p>

Rachel looked up from her novel to gawk at her friend. "Is that the truth, Mercedes?"

"Yes ma'am, it is." A masculine voice answered her.

"Finn?" Rachel asked, hesitantly, throwing formalities aside. Finn's next action took her completely by surprise. In two swift steps, Finn had crossed the room, enveloped her in his arms, and buried his face in her hair.

"Right. Well then. Allow me to give the two of you some privacy." Mercedes scuttled out of the room, bearing a concerned expression for her friend.

Rachel felt Finn's hold loosen on her waist, and she took the opportunity to pull back slightly to study his face.

"What is it, Finn?" To her utter shock and dismay, Finn's beautiful features crumpled right in front of her, and he proceeded to sob on her shoulder. Rachel still felt completely in the dark about what was troubling him, but she softly stroked his hair and began to sing tenderly to the handsome, distraught man.

_Some say the heart is just like a wheel/When you bend it, you can't mend it./But my love for you is like a sinking ship/My heart is on that ship and in the ocean._

_They say that death is a tragedy/It comes once, and then it's over./But my one only wish is for that deep, dark abiss./For what's the use of living with no true lover?_

_And it's only love/And it's only love/That can break a human being and turn him inside out/That can break a human being and turn him inside out…_

His sobs continued, and she gently brought him to her bed and laid down with him. "Shhh…shhh…Everything will be just fine, darling. Enough tears. I vow to you, Finley Hudson, that whatsoever this is, I will be by your side. I promise this to you."

Her words soothed him into a deep sleep, and she stared at him - caressing his face lovingly - before she too drifted into a heavenly slumber.

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><p>AN: Was that too out of character for Finn? I'm not sure. Hopefully it wasn't _too _cheesy/dramatic for you….


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I would just like to say that writer's block is a _bitch_. Very sorry for not updating sooner. The last chapter kinda left me unsure of how to proceed for some reason. But now I believe I'm back on track!

I really wanted to tell you guys that I'm back to working on this story, but I despise author's notes that pose as updated chapters. So I know this chapter is _very _short, but I really wanted _something _up. Consider it a teaser.

And thanks again for all of your kind reviews!

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><p>Rachel stirred lazily on her bed. She had the most amazing sleep and was hesitant to welcome the new day – especially if that meant she had to say goodbye to – wait. Rachel's eyes flew open to take in the empty space next to her. Was it all a dream? Was the image of her perfect gentleman – wrought with grief – sleeping next to her just that – an image? Rachel was so caught up in confusion and – well, almost – memories, that it took her a bit to notice a letter – adorned with her name – resting on the pillow that she was sure had recently occupied Finn's weary head. Gingerly, Rachel unfolded the letter to find heart-wrenching words in messy scrawl.<p>

_My Dear Miss Berry – _

_My heart is full of endless apologies for my actions. I want you to know that any pain I may have caused you was entirely unintentional, and I take complete responsibility._

_I thank you for your hospitality to me last night. My behavior was completely inappropriate. I was in such a state, Miss Berry – and for some peculiar reason – I knew that I would find the most comfort in your arms. So I selfishly sought you out, ignoring your request of distance from myself. And I did find the solace from you that I craved. You were a warm harbor to my troubled soul. _

_And now - it pains me so to continue – I must bid you adieu. There have been some recent developments in my personal life - ones that I cannot divulge to you – that will prevent me from making your acquaintance any longer. But Rachel – and forgive me for speaking to you so informally at a time like this – Rachel, you must know that had circumstances been different, I would be yours. Your voice, your spirit, your entire person has captivated me in such a way that I have never felt before. _

_It is my deepest hope that you forget about a bastard like me, and give your heart to one who truly deserves to have it._

_With warmest regards and deepest regrets,_

_Finley Hudson_

Finn's words began to blur before her as unwanted tears flooded her eyes. Her romance was over before it began – and she had no say in the matter. If Finn wanted to be with her, what could possibly be stopping him? The only conclusion she could muster was that though he may possess feelings for her, his feelings for Miss Fabray were stronger. And why should they not be? Quinn was everything Rachel was not – and more so.

"Rachel? Darling, come to the parlor. There is someone I'd like you to meet." Her father's interrupted her troubled thoughts.

She hurriedly wiped her tears, and dabbed a bit of powder on her face to hide the fact that she was crying. She undid her frock that she had worn the day and night before and changed into a fresh, clean dress. She tied the tangled mess of her hair with a pink ribbon. She glanced at her reflection, and deigning herself decent enough for company, she made her way to the parlor.

She glanced at Mercedes who merely raised an eyebrow, and she knew she would have to have a long chat with her soon. Strangely, though, Mercedes was not staring at her, demanding answers, but rather her gaze was fixed on the two men standing before her. Mercedes looked back at Rachel as if to silently tell her something, but Rachel could not figure out the message – until after her father's introduction of the stranger.

"Ah, Rachel. There you are. Daughter, I'd like you to meet my new apprentice. He is just a few years your elder, and has asked my permission to court you."

Rachel was incredulous. "Court me? But I know nothing of him – let alone his name even."

The stranger stepped forward. "Allow me to change that, my dear. My name is Jesse St. James, and I'm delighted to make your acquaintance."

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><p>AN: And there you have it. How many of you saw that coming? I really can't pass up on jealous Finn.

I hope to update soon. My muse is back! I've learned my lesson that the next time I attempt multi-chapter story, I need to have more of a plan than just going with the flow.

Thank you for staying with me.

EDIT: Thanks to jude1028, The chapters are _much _cleaner looking. And I'm able to go back and edit. I don't know about you guys, but the way I had everything divided (or, in some cases, not divided) was driving me crazy. So if you choose to reread this, it's much less of a headache!

And Minsk, I'm pretty sure I can see Jesse being the one with the ponytail. Can't you? All slick=like like a Mr. Wickham or Willoughby?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hey! An update - and kind of long, too. Angst, guys. Sorry about that.

Disclamer: I do not own Glee or Jane Austen.

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><p>Finn Hudson bowed his head in resignation; - he went to the Fabray manor in order to set things right with Quinn. After all, they did have – <em>intercourse<em> - with one another. Whether he recalls the event or not is irrelevant – he chose to have relations with Quinn, and therefore he clearly saw a future with her – a future that did not – and _could not _involve the beautiful and passionate Rachel Berry; - his heart pained from the inward acquiescence.

"_Oy! _You here for Miss Quinn?" Finn turned around to see the stable hand, - what was his name? – _Nathan? – or Nicolas, maybe? No! It's Noah. Noah _Punkerton.

Congratulating himself on his impressive memory recollection, he answered the boy – who seemed to be close to his age. "Yes, that is correct. Is she in?" Finn was a bit put off from Noah's behavior, because the moment he set eyes on him, he was met with a glare – a glare that one might say appeared to contain _jealousy_.

Noah shook his head rapidly as if snapping back from a trance – of what, Finn could hardly imagine. "Yes. She is. I will inform her of your arrival. Pardon me, _Mr. Hudson_." Finn almost detected the distain dripping from the boy's voice as he spoke the former's name. _Clearly it is all in my head. I've enough troubles at the moment- _

His thoughts were halted when he heard Quinn Fabray's cool, honey voice greet him. "Good day to you, Finn. There is much that needs to be discussed." Finn noticed a slight panic in her tone, and cast his eyes on his – well - _lover._

"Is something the matter? What is troubling you, Quinn?"

"My darling, I think you and I need to have a seat in the parlor for this kind of conversation. If you will oblige me, let us sit." Finn dutifully followed Quinn's orders and joined her on the loveseat. He saw her take a deep breath before startling him with most shocking and vexing news.

"I am with child, Finn. Your child." If Finn had been paying closer attention to Miss Fabray's behavior, he would have noticed her gaze shift from him to the stable hand who had patiently waited outside the parlor, - and he might have observed the nervousness in her tone upon identifying _him_ as the father. But alas! – These things were unseen by the suddenly troubled Finn Hudson, and he grieved for his fate.

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><p>"Miss Berry! Might I have a word?" Rachel resisted the urge to succumb to an eye roll. She took a deep breath before turning to face Mr. St. James. The gentleman had been relentless in the pursuit of one Rachel Berry – regardless of the number of times she had rejected said advances.<p>

"Mr. St. James – forgive me – I did not see you," for she had strategically placed herself on the sofa where she could avoid the very person in question. Unfortunately for herself –and luckily for him – he sought her out anyway. "What is it that you wish to discuss?"

"Will you allow me to escort you around the parlor?"

"Well, - I suppose that would be quite alright." Rachel took the outstretched hand extended towards her, and – after he helped Rachel to stand - Mr. St. James tucked hers into the crook of his elbow, setting the pace of their walking.

"Now then! You must be inquiring to your pretty self why I have requested your company for this fine walk."

"In all actuality – Mr. St. James – I was pondering the merit of these seemingly pointless little walks in the first place. If we are to walk, would we not choose to do so outdoors – thus gaining fresh air and exercise and not forfeiting one for the other?"

"Miss Berry – how many times must I _insist _that you refer to me as Jesse? Let us drop this formal nonsense, Rachel."

Rachel tensely smiled and shook her head disbelievingly. In an exasperated tone, she responded, "And I do not know how many times I have _insisted _to you that I wish for us to be known by our surnames."

"Come now. I have been your father's apprentice just shy of seven weeks. I consider you a friend – a close confidant, if you will – and as I pride myself at being very much an expert of reading fair maidens such as yourself, I am quite certain you feel the same about me."

"_Mr. St. James _– you are mistaken in your assumptions. I still very much maintain my stance in keeping our relationship as acquaintances. Until you can find yourself in perfect agreement with me in my opinion of that matter, we are to be barely strangers. Now then – do I make myself quite clear?"

Mr. St. James poorly masked his disappointment, "Absolutely, Miss Berry – crystal. Forgive me for being so intrusive and forward in my pursuits. You are an extraordinary lady, and I find it hard to contain my overwhelming affection for you."

Despite her misgivings about the man, Rachel was flattered by Mr. St. James's endearing words. She smiled a bit. "Well, Mr. St. James – I think I can allow myself to accept your most sincere apology. My talent does indeed seem to have that affect on others. I think a delightful companionship may very well be in our imminent future, after all."

Mr. St. James grinned, "I pray you do not think me too forward _madame _– as I – at last – find myself in your most favorable graces, - but why is it that you are of the unusual mindset that we shall solely remain comrades? I am a soon-to-be successful, well-established man-of-law, and I am of exceptional breeding and possess devastatingly handsome features. Come now, - surely you find me a desirable suitor?"

Rachel sighed, "Mr. St. James, - can I be completely and utterly honest with you? You have expressed your intent that we are to be friends now, - we are in agreement of this particular matter, correct?"

"To be sure, my dear Miss Berry. What is it you would like to share? I've no doubt you will discover that I possess an exceptional listening ear – 'tis one of my many vast and various favorable attributes."

Rachel was anxious about her impending confession and chose to ignore Mr. St. James's conceited remark. "There is another that I struggle to repress my feelings for – he is otherwise attached, yet I cannot bring myself to cease my longing and deep affections for him. That is the reason you and I cannot proceed further than friendship. Another possesses my heart." Rachel bowed her head sadly.

Mr. St. James ceased their walking and took both Rachel's hands in his, staring in her eyes. "Miss Berry – if he is so blind to not see the goodness and beauty of your character, then he does not deserve someone like you. I will honor your wishes to keep our relationship platonic. It is my selfish wish that you cease to remember this insufferable sod and find solace in my company, instead. And I assure you that if you change your mind about you and I, - I will not hesitate in my pursuits of courting you, once more."

Rachel hurriedly wiped the tears threatening to course down her cheeks and impulsively leaned into Jesse for a hug. "Thank you, _Jesse_. Despite your pompous nature, you really are a good man." And with that last declaration, she left a speechless Jesse to his own thoughts and exited the parlor.

* * *

><p>A couple weeks later, Nurse Sylvester found Rachel at the very same place. "After speaking with your father, young lady, I came to inform you that my services are requested elsewhere. I would say that it has been a great honor aiding in your child-rearing, but it would be morally wrong for me to set a bad example by being someone who speaks false truths."<p>

"I am not sure I understand, Nurse Sylvester. Who is it that you will be tending to – and what purpose would they have to require _you _of all nurses?" Nurse Sylvester's glare made Rachel backpedal in her speech, "I mean – that is – what I meant was – oh, _good heavens_! Why you, Nurse?"

"Out of the generosity of my own charitable heart, I am going to willfully ignore that tone, my dear. Now, it seems as if one of our own young women of the town has landed in a rather unfortunate circumstance, and I am the only one to be trusted to not spread rumors about this _delicious _ordeal. I pride myself on my utmost devotion to keeping secrets, as you know quite well."

Rachel thought about mentioning the fact that Nurse Sylvester's great lack of friends may have something more to do with entrusting her with the secret, but she needed to know more about the _circumstance_, and she had to stay in her nurse's good graces. "To be sure, Nurse. But I must inquire about this new situation and to whom it affects."

"Well, Miss Berry, if your unsightly nose had not been blocking your ears from hearing me, you would know that I cannot divulge the details of the scandal. Besides, to be with child is a matter far too inappropriate for such a small girl."

"Aha! So a child had been conceived out of wedlock? And who is this most unlucky person?" Rachel knew she was pushing her luck with the nurse, but she pressed on with her questions, challenging Nurse Sylvester's determination to withhold information.

"Why, you _scoundrel_! What has become of our young women in this age? Firstly, Miss Fabray scandalizes herself by conceiving a bastard, and now _you_, using your crafty, unladylike ways to achieve information from me for your own selfish gain."

Rachel grew very pale. "Miss - Miss _Fabray_? And – do – do you know who might be fathering the child in question?" She waited on baited breath for the painful reply.

"You are privy to far more information than you need to know already. If you think I am going to betray Lady Hudson's trust and tell you who the rascal is, think again, my sweet Miss Berry. Nurse Sylvester will stand for your tomfoolery no longer." And with a grand gesture, Nurse Sylvester swiftly exited the parlor, leaving the devastated Rachel to her torturous thoughts, the nurse's words making her quite dizzy with heartbreak.

_With child. Miss Fabray. Lady Hudson._

Mr. Hudson and Miss Fabray made love? They were to have a baby? How could this be? How could she feel such a strong fervor for this man who has linked himself with another? How could he – in his last letter – practically profess his affection for her and engage in scandalous acts with someone else? How could she – in believing him to be a most honorable and upstanding man – have been so shortsighted to not see his impure motives? And, although she despised herself for thinking of Mr. Hudson's welfare, what would become of him and Miss Fabray? Surely, the golden couple would be ostracized from the town. A situation like _this _will bring shame upon the two in the most unimaginable and unpleasant ways.

Allowing herself to spend several moments to grieve over her lost love, her tears began to dry with a steely resolution. _Mr. Hudson has made his bed, and therefore, he must lie in it. He is no longer of my concern anymore. _She stood up coolly, straightened out her dress, and sought out the gentleman whose romantic advances had been previously ignored.

* * *

><p>Mr. Jesse St. James and Mr. Berry were in the latter's office while the former listened to Mr. Berry's lessons in becoming a lawyer like himself. Though Mr. St. James put on the air of being attentive and a most promising pupil, he was instead consumed with thoughts of his believed superiority, envisioning Mr. Berry recognizing his foolishness and bestowing upon Jesse the title of master and <em>he <em>the lowly pupil. If anyone should be benefited from this established apprenticeship, why should Jesse not graciously bestow on dimwitted Mr. Berry his jewels of wisdom for the trade? And why – _oh! _– Jesse was snapped out of his daydream when he accidentally jabbed himself in the hand with the quill he was feverishly taking notes with – notes of grand plans for a _renaissance _- of sorts – of the entire legal system. He was busy tending to his wound – fearing a permanent mark – _an esteemed, successful Englishman of law _must_ always have impeccably groomed hands _– when Miss Rachel Berry interrupted his and Mr. Berry's private session.

The fair lady curtsied prettily. "Father. Mr. St. James. I am terribly sorry to disturb you both, but if it is alright with you – I would like to have a private moment alone with Mr. St. James."

* * *

><p>AN: Okay. Jesse is SUPER fun to write. I was cracking up, playing around with his character. He should be in all my stories. And Sue is really fun to write for this era, as well. I enjoyed writing her and Rachel's exchange.

Also, I recently immersed myself in some history about this time period. Super excited, and ready to see this through!

As always, thank you for the lovely comments and support. Encouraging my writing means so much more than I can say!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hello, all! I totally am thumping my head in a "couda had a V8" fashion, because as a former soprano of vocal lessons, I learned a _plethora_ of classical love songs, _arias_, and folk songs that _totally _could've been implemented in this fic, considering their time period. So now, searching for songs won't be _nearly _as difficult. I just have to consult my old solo books!

Also, that last episode – very Austenian of Finn, right? Seriously – this was gonna be up earlier, but I just kept watching the proposal scene over and over instead. No regrets.

I'm totally thinking Finn should serenade Rachel with "I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz. Or "Beside You" by Marianas Trench. Either would be wildly romantic – especially considering the new level of their relationship.

Now on to a time period where it's _encouraged _to be engaged at 17. Enjoy, and – as always – thank you for the lovely words of encouragement!

Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor Jane Austen.

* * *

><p><em>Love's blind, they say,  Oh! never! nay, / Can words love's grace impart? / The fancy __weak, / The tongue may speak, / But eyes alone the heart, / In one soft look what language lies, / Oh, yes, believe me, love has eyes, / Oh, love has eyes, / _

After Jesse's vocal trill, he paused and motioned for Rachel to stand up and join him in the song, during an impromptu concert for Rachel's father and the household staff. Rachel walked over to where Jesse held his stance, and her voice blended beautifully with his on the refrain of the _aria_.

_Love has eyes, / Oh, love has eyes, / Oh, yes, believe me, love has eyes, / Oh, yes, believe me, / Oh, yes, believe me, / Oh, yes, believe me, / love has eyes. /_

_Love's wing'd, they cry, / Oh! never! I, / No pinions have to soar; / Deceivers rove, / But never love, / Attach'd, he roves no more: / Can he have wings who never flies? / And yet, believe me, Love has eyes, / Oh, Love has eyes, /_

_Love has eyes, / Oh, Love has eyes, / Oh, yes believe me, Love has eyes, / Oh, yes, believe me, / Oh, yes, believe me, / Oh, yes, believe me, / Love has eyes. / _

Jesse and Rachel clasped hands and took a modest bow and curtsy respectively to the polite applause.

"Wonderful!" Mr. Berry exclaimed, "Simply marvelous. What a fine match you two make – even vocally you two are perfect for each other." Rachel managed a weak smile, while Jesse grinned broadly.

"I could not agree more, Mr. Berry. Miss Berry and myself are – indeed – quite the couple. Why! I believe it was sheer fate that led me to work for you. Otherwise, how else would I have made the acquaintance of this exquisite young lady? And how else would she have had the _great _fortune of making mine? Fate, I tell you. _Fate_."

Mercedes watched the exchange of the three and rolled her eyes a bit at cocky Mr. St. James. If Rachel had seen her, she did nothing to correct the action. In fact, Rachel pulled her hand away from Jesse. "Right. Fate," Rachel murmured quietly. "If you both will excuse me," Rachel swiftly left the parlor and hastened to her bedchamber. She threw herself on her sofa, trying to make sense of her recent romantic entanglements.

"_You wished to speak with me, Miss Berry?" Jesse gently prodded after they departed from her father's presence and went outside for fresh air. _

_Rachel shyly nodded, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to say. "I did, indeed, Jesse." _

_Jesse tried to contain his grin, "Ah! So we are back at Jesse_ _and Rachel_ _now, are we not?"_

_Rachel chose to think that Jesse placing his name was not deliberate and answered him, "Yes. I—I am just going to come out and say it. I would like – I would very much like – if you and I would begin a courtship – as you have wanted all along." _

_Jesse's grin spread, "I cannot say that I am the slightest bit surprised, Rachel. The qualities that I possess make things very difficult for one to reject my advances. You have made me very happy, darling. I look forward to these months ahead, and I am eagerly awaiting the day we promise ourselves to one another."_

_Rachel's mouth dropped open, a bit. "Jesse, I do not wish to be engaged at the moment. For now, let us settle on a courtship, hmm?" _

_Jesse's eyes twinkled, "As you wish, my dear."_

And thus, a new match was formed. And Jesse's constant attention was endearing – albeit, slightly _too _endearing – enough to help her forget her tryst with Finn. She reached for the letter he left her that fateful morning. The paper was worn from the number of times she nervously folded and unfolded the letter. The letters were faded from her fingers running over the ink strokes. At least once every morning and once every night, she would take in Finn's beautiful, heartbreaking words, trying to determine if he were truly genuine with his emotions and actions. Ashamedly, she continued this almost comforting ritual even after Rachel accepted Jesse's romantic pursuits.

She read the words, again. Phrases and words like _I would find the most comfort in your arms _and _warm harbor _and _Rachel _and _I would be yours _and _captivated _and _warmest regards _soared from the page to her soul and burrowed there, filling her with an incredible and devastating warmth.

_Stop it! _She chided herself. _You have Jesse, now. He is yours and completely smitten with you. Be fair to him. Put the letter down. _So she did. And she felt a figurative string in her heart snap as she did so.

* * *

><p>Finn Hudson's mind continued to reel even though it had been several weeks since he was privy to the life-altering news. He fled the Fabray's manor after one of their many squabbles and headed to town on foot, anxious to clear his head with fresh air. His feet led him to town. He figured since he was there, he might as well have the waist coast he was wearing altered – as this was the reason for he and Quinn's most recent argument. He had lost a bit of weight from the stress of finding out he was a father, and Quinn claimed he now looked sloppy in the shapeless garment. He entered the tailors, gave a quick nod to Kurt Hummel, and then stopped cold. In front of him was the beautiful Rachel Berry and her arm was currently being possessed by – by <em>another<em>!

"Good afternoon, Rach – er – Miss Berry." Finn's greeting made Rachel spin around, bearing a horrified expression.

"Aft-afternoon, Mr. Hudson." Rachel looked as if she wanted to say something else but she could only stare helplessly into his gaze. Fortunately – or perhaps _unfortunately _– the man beside her came to her aid.

"I apologize for Miss Berry's impolite behavior. I am please to make your acquaintance, Mr. _Hunley _was it?"

"Hudson," Finn said firmly, regaining his voice.

"St. James," The man said in an equally even voice. "And I find it very agreeable that I get to know Rachel's little friends – seeing as we are _betrothed _and all."

The color drained from Rachel's face, and Finn felt he had been kicked – multiple times – in his stomach. Before anyone else could utter another word, he swiftly turned around and stalked out of the shop.

"Finn! _Finn! _Will you just—_Finn!_" Rachel hurriedly followed the man, but he was proving it to be difficult with his fast, angry strides. She would chide Jesse later for exaggerating their relationship, but right now, she needed to make sure Finn knew the truth. "_Finn!_"

At the last pleading of his name, Finn abruptly spun around. "_What? _What could you _possibly _care to add to the conversation? You're _engaged_? How could you _do _this to me?" Finn's eyes were full of hurt, but the hurt was masked by the fury emitting from his gaze. The fury soon turned into confusion when he was met with a cold, hard slap on his cheek.

Proudly, Rachel shot back, "How could _I _do this to _you_? How could you do this to _me_? You are a _liar_, Mr. Hudson," Rachel spat. "How could you not tell me you and Quinn were in the family way?"

This time, the color drained from _Finn_'s face. He lifted his hand – almost an attempt to reach for her shoulder, but she jerked away from him before he had the chance. "Who _told _you?" Finn asked brokenly, willing her to see the sorrow in his eyes.

"Does it matter? Whatever Mr. St. James and I are is none of your business. I wish you the best with Quinn while you languish in your little ensemble – _Mr. Hudson _– but _my _dreams are bigger than that – and they are bigger than you." Before he could see the tears threatening to course down her cheeks, she strode back into the shop, leaving Finn to kick the nearest outdoor bench in painful remorse and walk home, wearing his too-large waistcoat.

* * *

><p>A couple days after her horrendous run-in with Finn, Rachel received a letter from her cousin who was currently residing in Bath.<p>

_My Dear Cousin – _

_I hope this letter finds you well and that you and your family are in good health. I was writing to inquire if you might be interested in spending some time, vacationing with me and my husband in Bath. _

_As far as I know from your previous letters, you are very much unattached – and there are quite a few eligible bachelors residing here that you may meet on your quest for a suitor. _

_If this appeals to you, I beseech you to send me your acceptance - as soon as you can – so that I may have ample time to prepare for arrival._

_William sends his greeting in addition to mine. _

_With love from your adoring cousin, _

_Emma Schuester _

Rachel kissed the letter fondly, missing her cousin a bit. What a wonderful idea - to take a vacation with her and her husband! Yet, something bigger – that remained unseen – kept her wanting to stay in Lyme, so she sought to write a response, politely declining the invite.

* * *

><p>"Darling? A word?" Mr. Berry sought out his daughter to find her singing softly to herself – a song about Don Juan.<p>

Rachel looked up, a pretty blush appearing on her cheeks. If her father only knew the implications of that duet and how it was a big instigator to her first kiss – "Father?" Rachel tried to hide the tremor in her tone.

"I understand Nurse Sylvester recently gave you private information concerning the state of the Hudson family and Fabray family. Several months ago, Lady Fabray approached me and was enraged about a particular new acquaintanceship between Mr. Hudson and yourself. I brushed her off, calmly asserting to her that you could be in company with whomever you may choose. Needless to say, she did not take the criticism well at all." Mr. Berry paused.

"Th-thank you, Father – for defending me – er – and Mr. Hudson, of course." Rachel added belatedly.

"I have not yet finished, my dear," Mr. Berry's smile was grim. "Now that Mr. Hudson has scandalized himself, I think it best to heed what Lady Fabray had to say."

Rachel was taken aback, "Are – are you saying that I am _banned _from seeing him?"

"Do you not think it best, darling? You and Mr. St. James are courting each other, after all."

Rachel nodded shakily, "No, of course. Would you excuse me?" Rachel quickly made her way back to her bedchamber. She grasped for the worn letter – the letter she had _sworn _she would burn.

The ironic thing about parenting is that although what the fathers and mothers might say make good advice, the venue from which the advice comes taints any good sense that was intended to be heard. And thus – although she was wildly determined only moments to not speak to Mr. Hudson ever again, there was no one she wanted to see more after Mr. Berry's reprimanding. So she fled her manor with the note tucked carefully in her hand and sought out the man in question.

* * *

><p>A loud thumping on the front door alerted Finn to a visitor, and he could only stare in surprise when he discovered who was on the other side.<p>

"Did you mean it?" Rachel asked breathlessly – her expression and tone quite the opposite of what it had been several days prior.

"Wh-what?" Finn felt ambushed from her fervent gaze, dumbfounded at what she could be referring to.

Rachel thrust a worn piece of paper in his face. "Did you mean it?" She repeated, almost shyly. It took Finn all of two moments to understand that this was _his _letter that he left her after that fateful night.

Finn thickly swallowed, and tried to keep the tremor out of his response, "Every word, Rachel."

"May I – may I come in?" Finn stepped aside and allowed Rachel to enter his home. She sat on the sofa, and he joined her, making sure to keep his distance. "I must inform you – first and foremost – that Mr. St. James and I are not engaged. We never were. He has been pressuring me to be, but what he said to you was wishful thinking on his part. We _are _courting one another." Her explanation came in a whisper, and she could only look at her clasped hands.

"Why—why didn't you tell me?" Finn felt a huge wave of relief wash over him – yet – he remained a trifle irritated that she allowed him to believe false information.

Her eyes snapped to his. "I was going to. It was – it was why I chased you down. But then you were so – so hurtful with your accusations of me intentionally wronging you, and I knew about you and Quinn were with child – and – and I snapped." At this point, her eyes were filling up with unshed tears and she had to turn away from the intensity of his gaze.

"Rachel," His voice was soft and tender. "Rachel, look at me." He sighed when she refused. "I was absolutely heartbroken when Quinn told me about our child." He swallowed thickly and then continued in an even softer tone. "Would you like to know the most frustrating part of this whole mess?" Finn said quietly. Rachel turned to him, urging him with her eyes to go on. "I cannot remember a single moment of my – _intimacy _– with Quinn. Not a single one. And yet, I remember everything about this" – he placed his palm softly on Rachel's throat, "—this incredible voice. I remember this" – his other hand moved to grasp Rachel's in his own and place it on his heart. "—this heart beating in time with yours," his hand on her throat slid down to rest over her heart in the most innocent of ways.

"Your heart is on the other side of your chest," Rachel corrected gently, and she slowly moved their hands to rest over his heart.

"Right. It beats for you, you know," Finn murmured huskily. "Rachel, most of all – I remember _this_." He leaned in – against his better judgment and firmly pressed his lips against hers. She gasped and – against both their better judgments – then reciprocated – allowing him to deepen the kiss. The stifled passion they had for one another was finally brought to light, and the only things audible were heavy breathing and little moans of pleasure from the two.

Rachel allowed herself to be swept away in the dream a bit more before softly breaking away. "We can't," she whispered.

Finn pressed his forehead against hers, "I know."

Breaking the spell between them, Rachel shot up and rushed out of the room. Finn heard his front door slam shut a moment later.

* * *

><p>Rachel found her father in his office. He was startled when he saw the unkempt, unsettled state she was currently in. "My dear!"<p>

"I wish to vacation at cousin Emma's manor, Papa." Rachel said in one breath. "I cannot stay in Lyme another minute." Once she informed her father of her wishes, she escaped to her bedchamber, stood in front of the looking glass and – with great, steely resolve – sang like a scorned lover – which, in part, she practically was.

_When Love is kind, / cheerful and free, / Love's sure to find welcome from me. / But when Love brings heartache and pang, / Tears and such things, / Love may go hang. / _

_If Love can sigh for one alone, / Well pleased am I to be that one, / But should I see Love giv'n to rove To two or three, / then goodbye, Love! / _

_Love must, in short, / keep fond and true, / Through good report and evil, too. / Else here I swear, / young Love may go, / For aught I care to Jericho! / ha! Ha! Ha! to Jericho! / _

She sang with a great fervent desire to feel as carefree as the original songstress. But ah! There lies the contradiction. For while the previous singer sang of a fling of sorts, Rachel was absolutely certain she was singing to mourn a soul-mate.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own neither glee nor Jane Austen.

* * *

><p><em>My dearest Rachel –<em>

_I am writing to inquire of your stay in Bath. You have been gone but a fortnight, and already it feels as though you have been gone far much longer. I wish that I were there with you, but I am respecting your wishes for solitude – not no matter how difficult it is for me to do. _

_Events here have been the same. Your father and I are working together, beautifully. My intent is for him to implement all my genius ideas – although he always has this peculiar look on his face whenever I input my brilliant nuggets of wisdom. Tell me, is he one to suffer from constipation, regularly? Perhaps, that is the reason behind his odd expressions. _

_But I digress. I am also writing to inform you that your colleague, formerly known as Miss Lucille Quinn Fabray, was wed several evenings ago. Mr. Ben Israel – as you know him to be our town gossip, of course – informed me that the gentleman you and I encountered – was it Hoffman? Hurston? – at the tailor's was the one who funded the whole affair. The bride was beautiful – a picture of grace and poise – and I daresay she and her bridegroom seemed quite happy._

_Now then! Since talk of someone else's nuptials is finished, I am wondering when you and I shall discuss our own? You must realize, darling – a wedding is inevitable. Still – I will allow you to think more on the matter and refrain from mentioning it, again. _

_I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. Until I see you again –_

_Yours,_

_Jesse St. James _

Rachel dropped the letter in shock. Her hand flew to her breast, and she could not breathe. Tears steadily made their way down her pale cheeks. She collapsed on her bed and mourned for Finn. _That was it, then_. He married her. They are having a baby, and she does not fit in his life. Her fingers flew to her lips, achingly recalling the last time she and Finn succumbed to their passion and his lips had caressed hers. She wept bitterly for her lot in life – a young woman, motherless, large-nosed, small-bosomed, - courting an agreeable enough gentleman whose only flaw might be that he believes himself to have none – while she is - in fact - in madly in love with a married man who – _she knows _– possesses feelings for her, too.

* * *

><p>Emma knocked on Rachel's guest bedchamber door. "Cousin – will you join me for tea?"<p>

Rachel groggily wiped her tear-stained eyes and fluffed her hair, trying – in vain – to tidy up her appearance – to look as if she had not been profusely crying.

"Will you give me a moment?" Rachel pleaded.

Emma's smile bore concern. "Of course. Meet me in the drawing room when you are ready."

Rachel hastily nodded and as soon as Emma left, she hurried to the bath to splash herface with cold water. She changed her frock, and an uneasy feeling of _déjà vu_ settled in her insides as she thought back to the last time a letter put her through this kind of grief.

_I must put a stop to this foolishness. Remember that song?_ She stared at her forlorn expression in the mirror. _"Love may go hang!" _– She snapped herself out of her thoughts and headed to the drawing room to sit with Emma.

Emma was already pouring the tea when Rachel arrived. "I feel as though you and I have not really chatted. Mr. Schuester went to go fetch an old family friend from Lyme, so you and I are – at last – alone to share our secrets. Tell me, Cousin – what has you trapped in misery?"

Rachel gaped at Emma, "i-in misery? But I am fine. I am in good health and I have a father who loves me, dearly. What is there to be upset about?"

"Darling – you may be able to fool Mr. Schuester with your happy front, but I know better. You forget I spent much time with my aunt – and your mother – and you look just as she when she was earnestly trying to make others think that that she was content when she was dying inside."

"And what did my mother have to be unhappy about? She loved my father, and he her – very much. And then she had me. Sounds like a lovely life to me – before her premature death, of course." Rachel hastily added.

Emma nodded, "Yes – indeed. Her life does sound quite _lovely_ – as you put it. And it would've been lovely if what you said were true."

"Wh-what? That is a rather tasteless joke, Emma. Please do not jest of my mother in that way. I'm surprised at your unkindness."

Emma closed her eyes and took a wavering breath, "Every family has secrets, Rachel. Yours is no different." Rachel simply gaped at her. "I must have your word that you will not utter anything of this to your father. If he found out that you knew what I'm about to disclose to you, he would be heartbroken. For his sake, Rachel – promise me."

Rachel was taken aback by Emma's tone, "Al-alright. I promise."

Emma took another shaky breath before beginning her tale –

"As you know – your mother was only five years my elder, and although she was my aunt, we carried on more like sisters. Shelby had dreams – just like you – dreams of performing Shakespeare and singing Schübert in London. She passed on that ambition to you – in that way. Your mother was very young when she and your father met for the first time. Her parents were thrilled with the prospect of the match and wasted no time in meeting with the Berry family to propose a union. Your father was extremely agreeable – but" – Emma looked down, sadly. "They did not love each other." Rachel gasped - as Emma knew she would – before letting Emma continue that tale –

"They married – your mother, fifteen– and your father, seven-and-twenty, - and it was a marriage full not of passion but sensibility. They had a companionship – at best – and loved each other as you would a sibling. You were conceived on their wedding night – for they knew it was their duty to consummate the union – and they never knew each other in that way again.

"When your mother learned that she would be in the family way, she was excited about a baby, and surely you must know she loved you very much. She was also hopeful for a possible connection between your father and herself, concerning you – maybe their love for you might spill into creating actual love for each other.

"Your father had grown up with a servant named Leroy, and they were very close – like you and Mercedes. It made much practical sense for him to move in with the newly wed couple, and both of your parents treated him very well. Your mother was three months along with you when she found your father and Leroy locked in an inappropriate embrace. Suffice it to say, your mother's pride was hurt, deeply. And though it is taboo to talk of such things, I will say your mother finally found out that Leroy made your father happier than she ever could. And so, she suffered in silence, confiding only in me her great misfortune in love. It would have been far worse if your mother had actually loved him, but nonetheless, her humiliation was almost as tragic.

"Two fortnights before you were born, she confided in her parents what she had seen, and before she could say another word, Leroy was quietly sent away – shipped off – as it were. Your father was outraged and stopped speaking to your mother at that point. She tried to apologize, but he would hear none of it. So she went through the pregnancy alone.

"Here's the part you know – your mother did – indeed – die from childbirth, and your father was so remorseful of his actions to her, he withdrew from you – his precious baby girl. He was heart-stricken, but only for Leroy. He mourned your mother but – in a way that was full of _guilt_, not love."

Rachel was stunned silent for several minutes. Finally, she spoke in a quiet, unsure voice, "Wh-why are you telling me all this?"

Emma pursed her lips, "I have seen the way you look when you talk of Mr. St. James – your suitor. I know society tells that as women – we are _nothing _if unattached – but Rachel – I implore you – do not enter in a loveless marriage. This is the nineteenth century – let us marry for affection – not sensibility."

Rachel took in every word. "The way you speak – sounds _so _revolutionary. And you need not worry, he wishes us into matrimony, but I have not yet consented. Truthfully" – Rachel took a deep, wavering breath before continuing. "Truthfully, I love – I love _another_, but – he and I _cannot_ be together – and" – feelings for Finn flooded back to the surface and she broke down – "and I have no idea what I am doing." She confessed as a lone tear trailed down her cheek. Emma reached out and wrapped Rachel in her arms like you would a small child.

* * *

><p>"Fancy yourself up, Cousin! We are going to a ball."<p>

Rachel put down her novel and clapped her hands, "A ball sounds positively _divine_. Oh, how I adore dancing!"

Once Emma provided an absolutely gorgeous gown for Rachel curled her hair in a modern up-do – tendrils of curls falling in her face – and graced her neck with a gold chain, she took Rachel's arm and led her to the carriage.

If there were to ever be a cure for Rachel's distress, it would be _dancing_. Several gentlemen were filled in on her dance card, and it was still early in the evening. She met a rather handsome and agreeable young man – Mr. Evans – and she very much enjoyed his company. And while she loved the gay sport and was very pleased to have met someone as gentile as Mr. Evans, she still felt an emptiness in her heart and could not rid herself of it. Nevertheless, she was determined to have a fine time.

"Miss Berry – tell me – have you a suitor? Someone as beautiful and talented as yourself must have one," Mr. Evans's eyes shown with merriment.

Rachel's eyes were downcast and the heaviness – that had always been present – pressed down on her heart, once more, "I do have a suitor, Mr. Evans. His name is Jesse St. James, and I am quite fond of him."

"I only ask – Miss Berry – because there has been a gentleman who arrived not too long ago who has been admiring you from afar. I found it my brotherly duty to ask for his sake – because he appears to be _quite _taken with you." Rachel spun around, searching for such a man but saw no one. Mr. Evans winked at her, "I have a feeling you two will encounter each other soon enough. And now, I believe our dance is over. Who is the next lucky fellow on your dance card?"

Rachel glanced down to her wrist but realized the card had flown off her where she was dancing. "If you will excuse me, Mr. Evans, I must go find my card for I haven't the slightest idea who I am to dance with next."

Mr. Evans chuckled and accompanied her in her search for her card. Several minutes passed, and she saw nothing until –

"Miss Berry! I found it." Mr. Evans thrust the card into her hands. "A gentleman – the same one I was telling you about – gave it to me."

"Oh – thank you, Mr. Evans! And now - wait a minute!"

"What is it?" Rachel shook her hand and lifted up a hand, silencing him. For on her dance card, every name was marked out – except for one at the very bottom – a name that sent her heart beating rapidly against her chest. She looked up to find the owner of the name – and there _he _was – gazing at her with such tenderness and – dare she say – _love_. You might have already solved the puzzle, but I will nonetheless. The bearer of the name on her card was none other than Mr. Finley Hudson.

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><p>AN: Hoho! Family secrets revealed. Reviews are love!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Short, but too busy being a creepy stan of Monchele. So exciting!

Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor Jane Austen.

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><p>Rachel could hardly believe her eyes – <em>Finn! Here? <em>– Whatever could be the reason that he be present at this particular ball in Bath. Unless he came to – _no_. Such ideas were foolish and impossible, and Rachel vowed to allow herself to be carried away with _those_ thoughts no more. Rachel and Finn made their way to each other and reached the other right when a slow-_tempoed_ number was heard by the two. Finn held his hand out wordlessly, and Rachel gingerly placed her hand in his. They stared at each other – intensely when they went to their respective lines. Rachel experienced a most delicious form of _déjà vu _when they circled each other, grasped hands and circled a second time - the third time with one hand on the other's center. This time, Finn stayed for the entire dance – which made Rachel smile. After the dance, Finn gently took her arm and led her off the floor.

"I do not understand, Mr. Hudson. What brings you to Bath? Especially after the ceremony I heard about that occurred at Lyme."

"Ah! So you heard of the recent nuptials, did you?"

"I did," Rachel sniffed. "And if it is alright with you, I would like to discuss the wedding with you no further."

Finn's expression bore confusion, "As you wish, then. Forgive me for being so bold – Miss Berry – but you are looking quite beautiful this evening."

Rachel blushed prettily, "I hardly think that is an appropriate thing to say – Mr. Hudson – all things considered."

Finn furrowed his brow, "Very well – in addition to no talk of – well, _you know _– I will not talk of how pretty you are – even if you are _stunning_."

"T-thank you. I must say that I am very confused as to why you are here. My b-beau, Mr. St. James, informed me that the wedding happened but a week ago." Rachel noticed Finn's expression had darkened considerably at mention of Jesse.

"The wedding did indeed happen at that time," Finn said slowly, "however, I am here, lodging with an old family friend and his wife. I've only just arrived."

"An old family friend you say? Would this man happen to be Mr. Schuester?"

Finn was surprised, "To be sure. But how did -?"

Rachel smiled nervously, "I am quite decent at guessing games." Rachel giggled, "I also heard he went away to bring back a family friend to stay with – er – them, so I put two and two together."

Finn chuckled at Rachel's playful tone, "And where might you be staying, Rachel?"

"W-with you, actually," Rachel flushed pink.

"Ex-excuse me?"

Rachel smiled a bit at the incredulity of Finn's expression, "I am staying with my cousin and her husband. Mr. Hudson, do you possess any inkling of who my cousin might just be?"

"Is it safe to say – Emma Schuester?"

Rachel winked, "The very same."

"Then Rachel Berry – I guess we are lodging together." Rachel nervously giggled. "Not _together_ as in – I mean – in completely different sleeping quarters. The connection we share with one another extends to mutual relationships, does it not?" Finn's eyes twinkled.

Rachel shook her head almost defiantly, "Mr. Hudson, if we are to _lodge _together – i-in completely separate quarters – then we must not speak of our _connection_."

Finn's expression was full of hurt, "And why's that?" he whispered.

Rachel opened her mouth to answer when she was interrupted by her cousins approaching them.

"Rachel! I see you are acquainting yourself with our dear friend, Mr. Hudson." Mr. Schuester's eyes shone with merriment.

Rachel – once again – opened her mouth to explain that they already knew each other, but Finn cut in –hastily – "yes! And Mr. Schuester – I must say she is as lovely and _agreeable_ as you have described.

Mr. Schuester winked at the two, "Wait until you hear her sing."

Finn looked directly at Rachel while answering the man, "I can only imagine."

Rachel cast her eyes away from his heated gaze. Emma noticed the stolen looks between the two and looked at Rachel questioningly.

Mr. Schuester continued, "Well – I am spent! Alright with everyone if we journey back? Finn – would it trouble you to accompany Rachel? I would like to ride home with my wife."

Finn's eyes flicked to Rachel's for just a moment, "O-of course not – I would be delighted. Shall we, Miss Berry?" He valiantly offered his arm.

Rachel hesitated slightly, before taking it, "We shall, Mr. Hudson."

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><p>"Why did you do that?" Rachel asked after several moments of uncomfortable silence.<p>

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why did you pretend that we have never met? Have you just blocked out all memory of me after the aforementioned ceremony took place?" Rachel knew she sounded a bit unreasonable, but Finn's omission of their relationship really bothered her.

Finn directed the horses to pull over to the side of the path and stared at her piercingly. "How could you ever think that? You are in my heart day and night. And what does the wedding even matter?"

Rachel feverishly shook her head, "I must insist you respect my wishes to not discuss the wedding. You've done a rather poor job of thus far – I might add."

Finn was befuddled, "How can I respect them when you keep bringing it up?"

Rachel held up a hand. "If you please, I'd like to go to the Schuesters – have a warm bath – sip some evening tea – and then go to bed. It has been a trying day."

"Right. Seeing me must be extremely trying for you. I understand the utter dismay."

"There is no need to jest meanly about it. And I did not mean – _humph!_—you can be so infuriating sometimes. Just let us go to our _temporary _home in silence."

Finn gritted his teeth, "As you wish."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Your reviews/hits have inspired me to write more, so thanks! I love the speculation about this story. Just what I wanted!

Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor Jane Austen.

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><p>Once they arrived to the Schuesters, Rachel quietly excused herself and headed off to her sleeping quarters. Finn watched her go, perplexed by her new attitude towards him. He needed to find the reason for her change in behavior. He headed in the direction she had exited, determined to set things straight.<p>

Finn politely knocked on the door of Rachel's bedroom. "Miss Berry – might I have a – _oh_. B-b-beg your p-pardon."

Finn had let himself in to find Rachel half-dressed in her corset and stockings – her ball gown pooled at her feet. Rachel made a move to cover her figure. Finn gaped at her, dumbfounded. "Leave at once!" Rachel shrieked when Finn _still _made no move. He mumbled another unintelligible apology and bolted from the doorway. Rachel shut the door in haste and sat in front of her mirror to collect herself. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red from embarrassment. She took a few calming breaths and stared at her reflection. _Finley Hudson _had just seen her in a heavy state of undress. Why did he stare so long? Did he – did he _fancy _what he saw – or was it just her wild imagination? She was sure he appreciated Quinn's figure much more than her own. Rachel feverishly shook her head – such thoughts were in appropriate to dwell on. What occurred in Mr. and Mrs. Hudson's private sleeping quarters was of absolutely no concern of hers. Even if she was tragically in love with him.

_Still! _She could not let Finn get away with invading her privacy. No matter how she felt about him, she had to inform him that his previous behavior was unacceptable. Donning her bedclothes quickly, she left her room in search of Finn.

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><p>Finn splashed cold water on his face - desperately trying to splash out the perfect image of Rachel he had just seen - but to no avail could he do so. The moment he closed his eyes, all he could see were her silky legs - generous in length - and her small, ample bosom rising and falling in perfect rhythm - and her bare shoulder, gleaming with perfection. He desired to - <em>no. <em>He could not allow himself to entertain thoughts of that nature, but she was just _so _-

"Mr. Hudson! How _dare _you enter my room when I am in such a state of undress? Have you no decency? No morals?"

Finn turned from the sink to find a fully-clothed, enraged Rachel standing in the middle of _his _bedchamber. "I –I did not realize th-that you were"—

"Of course. You are _clearly_ innocent in this – in _all_ of this, really. I bet th-that this was all a scheme – escape your commitments in Lyme, flee to where I am, wait for me to be indecent, and try to _seduce _me! Well I will not stand for this. I am – first and foremost – a lady, and while you and I have a history in participating in – shall we say – _uncouth _activities, I will _not _surrender my virtue to you like you so _flippantly _have done."

Finn stared at her – a hurt expression gracing his handsome features. "And are you quite finished, Miss Berry? Since it appears you know me and my slimy ways so well, I will simply bid you a good night. I will wait another evening to attempt to _seduce_ you – as you so poetically said. Sweet dreams, Miss Berry." His words were icy, and he departed to the baths, quietly.

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><p>The next several days had been rather tense for all parties involved at the Schuester estate. Emma Schuester was very aware of Rachel's change in attitude and demeanor. She would barely meet Mr. Hudson's eyes and would only mutter one or two word sentences anytime they were in the same room together. She also took notice of many lingering looks of longing shared between the two. Emma was more than a bit confused – did they not just meet two evenings ago at the dance? Why, then, this peculiar behavior?<p>

Rachel busily worked on her needlepoint – desperately trying to keep her thoughts at bay. The end result was a flushed face and pricked finger. She hated needlepoint – but Emma had suggested the activity as a form of more cousin bonding, so here she was. While they worked in silence, Rachel's thoughts constantly gravitated towards Finn. _What was he doing here? And why would he leave his newly wedded wife and unborn child alone for so long so he could have a leisurely visit in Bath? And why – of all places – did he have to end up staying with _her _cousins?_ She knew he desperately wanted to discuss certain events that encouraged her escape to Lyme, but she could not bear speaking with him about it. No matter what she told herself or others – or happy she believed herself to be with Jesse – she was not ready for the closure that Finn seemed to want so badly.

And could she blame him for wanting to tie up the loose ends? For once he did so, he and Quinn Fabr—_Hudson_ would be able to love each other and their little one, freely. And so, she simply avoided being alone with him during his stay – to evade any hint of actual meaningful conversation. And ever since their heated encounter after the ball, he appeared to be allowing her evasion.

"You're awfully quiet, cousin. What has you so troubled, my dear?" Emma's soft voice broke into her thoughts.

"Oh!" She stuck her newly punctured finger in her mouth, silently cursing Emma for startling her. Satisfied, that the tiny bleeding had stopped, she gave Emma a tight smile resumed her needlework. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean to imply, Emma."

"Enough, Rachel!" Emma's tone was surprisingly stern, and Rachel glanced back up to meet her piercing gaze. "You have been acting like a completely different individual since Finn Hudson arrived to stay. What are you not telling me?"

Rachel took a deep, wavering breath, "Remember when I informed you of feelings for someone that could not love me back?"

Emma's eyes were as wide as saucers, "You mean"—

"I do. Finn omitted the fact that we knew each other before that night, but we – _we do_. There some _events_ that transpired between us before I left for Bath. An-and now, he is married, and they are with child." Rachel lowered her voice at the last part, still not through feeling scandalized from the whole thing.

"That is quite peculiar, cousin. Although you refuse to speak with him, I have been, and from what I have discovered is that he is very much unattached – and once more, he very much wishes to pursue _you_."

Rachel was incredulous. "Th-that _scoundrel_! How _dare _he!" Rachel flung herself off the chair and - with quick angry strides – reached Finn and felt no remorse in interrupting what appeared to be a serious discussion between William and himself. "Finn! What _the dickens_ would possess you to tell Cousin Emma you were _unattached_? How could you be so deceitful and treat Quinn and your baby like that? Will you not take responsibility for your new family? I held you in a much higher esteem that has no vacancy for your recent actions!" Rachel concluded her ranting – face red – and waited for a reply.

Finn and William both stared at Rachel for a long time, before Finn finally spoke up, "William, if you could leave me alone with Miss Berry for just a moment, I'd be much obliged." William nodded his consent and left his office, heading to the parlor- where –I am certain - he intended to share with his wife what he had just witnessed.

Finn spoke slowly, "All this time – you thought I was _married_?" His tone was disbelieving, and he massaged his temples briefly before meeting Rachel's gaze with an almost tender expression. "Darling. We really should rectify this misunderstanding."

The room appeared to be spinning and Rachel grew faint. "I don't—I don't understand. If you—if you're not married, then—then" – Rachel tried to make sense of Finn's words and expression but to no avail.

"Is it my turn to speak, now, Miss Berry?" Finn said, not unkindly. Rachel nodded, sitting down slowly in William's unoccupied seat.

"Do you – err – do you remember _that_ night when…" Finn's ears turned red. "—when I told you that I could not remember a thing about Miss Fabray's and my night together?" Rachel turned pink thinking about what transpired between the two _after _the confession. "I wasn't being facetious or trying to take advantage of your gracious nature that night. I genuinely remembered nothing."

_Something in the back of Finn's mind had been troubling him. _Why _could he still not remember Quinn's and his night together? Before anything else could come to fruition, he had to have a chat with Quinn. It wouldn't be difficult, for after her mother and father found out about the baby, they sent her away from her home, and Finn graciously offered for her to stay with him. He found her with her former stablehand, someone she insisted follow her to the Hudson estate. He found such a request peculiar, but granted the wish, regardless. They seemed to be in serious conversation and spoke in hushed tones. Before he could say anything, he heard his name._

"_Finn's been questioning me quite often, lately. It's rather frightening, really. I'm fatigued from lying to him." That was enough for Finn to hear._

"_Lying about what?" The two conversers were startled by Finn's presence and both bore heavily guilty expressions. _

"_Finn! What would possess you to spy on me like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack, sweetheart." _

_Finn's expression was steely and he looked back and forth between the odd pair. "What are you two keeping from me?" The two exchanged meaningful looks but kept silent. Their omission enraged Finn further. "I came to talk with Quinn. Alone. Please leave us alone." _

"_Do _not _speak to him that way, Finn!" Quinn's eyes flashed with fury. Finn quickly glanced over to the stablehand and then back to Quinn._

"_You're right. I should not address the father of your child in such a disrespectful manner." Suddenly, everything was becoming clear – and his anger grew steadily. _

"_Wh-what? Finn! The accusation you make is very grave, indeed. Darling, think of what you imply." Quinn's words were sharp, but her expression was nervous – which confirmed his suspicions._

"_J-just tell me. You and I – we never even _had _intercourse with one another, did we?" _

_Tears streamed down Quinn's face and a whispered _no _exited her lips. Finn gave a firm nod. "I want you and your mistress out of my house. Immediately. You will send for your belongings later." Finn's tone was deadly calm. _

"I-I don't understand! When Jesse wrote, he said that Miss Fabray married and" –

Finn looked at Rachel curiously, "Did he ever name the bridegroom in said letter?"

Rachel tried to recall the letter that she had so painstakingly cried over for several days. _The bridegroom seemed quite happy. Miss Fabray was wed. _Rachel's eyes widened.

"Your beau, St. James, is a great many things – but a liar he is not." Finn would have liked to continue with an unfavorable list of Mr. St. James's character, but Rachel's warning glance quickly quieted him.

_But wait! _"But he did say that you funded the whole affair – and I th-thought that meant that – why would you do such a thing to two persons who betrayed you so?"

Finn's tone held great passion. "Everything I did was for _her_."

Rachel drew in a deep breath, struggling to hold back tears. "I-I see. You will always love Quinn, is that it? Though she is married to another, she'll always have your heart, and-"

"_Darling_. You must allow me to finish my explanations before you draw your own conclusions – it may save both of us undeserved headaches." Rachel closed her mouth, and silently begged him to continue. "It was all for _her _– m-my – well, I suppose not my – b-but quite almost my _daughter_." Finn's eyes were glossy, and Rachel was drawn to the sensitive man. "Or son – I should add. I just – always thought that we were having a _girl_, and – I beg your pardon. I fail to be making any sense."

"No." Rachel wiped her own tears in haste. "You're making perfect sense. You must be in so much pain to have your child ripped away from you like that. I—I am terribly sorry for your loss."

Finn nodded with a small smile. "Thank you, Rachel." His next action surprised her as he reached for her hand and squeezed it fondly. "You always amaze me with your words. You know just what to say – and you know just what I feel."

Rachel's eyes shone with sincerity. "And _you _amaze me with your actions. To pay for a wedding of someone who wronged you – just so that someone's child could have hope in a brighter future – _you _amaze _me_, Finn."

They stared at each other for several blissful moments and moved toward each other, slowly. Her eyes had just fluttered closed from Finn's warm breath on her face and –

"Rachel! You have a letter from Mr. St. James." Emma's voice from the parlor once again interrupted Rachel, and she and Finn both broke hastily away from each other.

"I-I have a l-letter." Rachel regretfully stood up, dazed from what almost transpired between them.

"You have a letter." Finn dumbly repeated. "From the man who is currently courting you."

"Yes. C-courting me." Rachel watched Finn swallow thickly and give her a half-hearted smile. "Excuse me, Mr. Hudson." Rachel curtsied, never breaking eye contact with Finn, and then hurried away to the parlor.

Finn watched her go and then placed his head in his hands. _She was another's – and he was too late. _

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><p>AN: _Pride and Prejudice _was on the _Style _network today, so it inspired me to finish this chapter up! I hope you all enjoyed it, and please review! :)


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own neither _Glee _nor Jane Austen. Enjoy!

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><p><em>My dearest Rachel –<em>

_I am writing you to inform you that I miss you terribly, and the Berry estate simply is not the same with you in Bath. A funny sort of fellow asked about you during my bi-weekly trip to the tailors. I think his name was Kenton. He entreated me to pass along that the – forgive me if I misquote him, though I have impeccable hearing and a memory that is much to be admired, his voice was a bit too high –pitched for my liking, and I shamefully distracted myself with musings of whether a male or female were speaking to me. Thank goodness, there is a lack of gender – shall we say – _confusion _residing in both of our families. _

_But I digress. Kenton wanted me to tell you that the "man in question" has been asking about your welfare constantly, and said man did not follow through his ever-pressing "engagement" to completion. I must admit, I am curious about this message. You are not in any legal or financial trouble, are you? Rest assured, my dear Rachel, that once the "man in question's" identity is revealed, I will rescue you from the miscreant. _

_Yours,_

_Jesse St. James_

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><p>The following several weeks spent in Bath were very enjoyable and lighthearted ones for Mr. Hudson and Miss Berry. After the truth of Finn's romantic entanglements had been revealed, tensions were lighter, and Rachel possessed no qualms in befriending him once more – regardless of her attachment to Mr. St. James. Finn strategically avoided the topic, and Rachel encouraged the avoidance. Instead, they spent those weeks familiarizing themselves with each other, engaging in discussions that ranged from entirely senseless to revealing themselves at their most vulnerable.<p>

"So growing up, your only friend was Mercedes?" Finn asked one day while they set out on their daily afternoon walk.

"To be sure. That is why it meant the world to me that you treated her like a human being that day – she's always looked at with disdain and contempt – continuously being reminded that she's below a second-class citizen. Even Nurse Sylvester gave her disparaging remarks." Rachel shook her head in disbelief at the close-mindedness of people.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said about the treatment of Africans – and I want to help - somehow. I don't really know how, but I assume there's some sort of hidden agenda against it, right? I don't know how to find it or what I can do really, but I know there are so many people like Mercedes that simply were born with the wrong color that has _damned _them to a life of-" – his rant was cut-off when Rachel stopped walking and took ahold of his hand and kissed it sweetly.

They stared at each other for a moment until Finn broke the heavy silence that had encompassed the pair. "May I inquire as to what that was for?" he asked softly, relishing in the feel of her lips that were just pressed upon his skin.

Rachel grinned softly, "You are the kindest, warmest, most open man I have ever known. Thank you."

Finn smiled back, his heart soaring from her words, and they resumed their walk – her hand remaining firmly in his.

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><p><em>My dearest Rachel – <em>

_I pray you are not in poor health – for that is the only plausible explanation I can think of that would prevent you from writing me in a span of a week's time. Tell me, Rachel, is it croup? I pray that your response to this query may be a negative one, for croup can wreak _such _havoc_ _on the vocal cords. And your voice is truly stunning, dear girl. I cannot _begin _to fathom the repercussions for not only your person, but _mine _as well! Croup really is very serious, and if you still fancy yourself singing duets with me, you really ought to see a physician for that sort of thing. _

_Yours, _

_Jesse St. James_

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><p>Evenings were spent dining with William and Emma, and Finn had never a gayer time than with the three that quickly grew dear to her heart.<p>

"Mr. Schuester – excuse me, _William_," Finn corrected himself, William Schuester imploring him a couple of nights ago to cease the use of his surname. "How did you and your lovely and most exceptional wife come to meet one another? Forgive me for being so intrusive, but you seem incredibly happy together, and – correct me if I am mistaken – I believe no familial arrangement was present in this union. Call me a modern man of the times, but I am beginning to believe we must find our own happiness and not rely on the decisions of our family to achieve such."

Finn cast his eyes downward, fearing he had said too much, wishing with every fiber of his being he knew the thoughts that were coursing through Rachel's lovely mind at the very moment. For she had bequeathed him with a quick glance during his rambling, and then suddenly found her own lap quite as interesting as he had found his. He had – of course - been referencing his past courtship with Quinn, but upon reflection, one might dissect his speech and find it fitting for Rachel's own romantic union. That certainly hadn't been his intent, and he grew increasingly worried he had offended the woman he had grown to hold in such high esteem.

He noticed Mrs. Schuester become increasingly sullen and subdued, sending apprehensive glances to Rachel, as he spoke. Abruptly, Rachel stood up, tears glistening in her eyes. "Would you excuse me?" Her trembling voice was no more than a whisper, and she fled the dining area to her bedchamber.

Finn watched her depart, concern gracing his handsome features. He looked to Rachel's cousin for explanation, but she simply regarded him with a sympathetic expression. He politely excused himself and left to find Rachel.

He reached her door and gingerly knocked, waiting for a response. He heard a muffled, watery invitation to enter and he quickly obliged, finding Rachel curled up in a heap on her burgundy blanketed canopy bed.

"Miss Berry? Are you quite alright? I had no intention in making you uncomfortable at supper just now. If anything, I was merely referencing the past failed relationship of Quinn and myself – absolutely nothing was aimed towards you."

Rachel lifted her head and Finn stared into her red-rimmed eyes. "I do not blame you, Finn," Rachel began in a watery voice. "I have to tell you something – something that will allow my recent actions to make much more of a significance to you." Finn nodded his head, imploring her to continue.

When she spoke to him about all things concerning her birthmother and father, he reached for her hand, having already seated himself next to her on her bed. One might overlook this exchange and call this image a scandalous one – (a man and woman sitting next to each other on a _bed _and not even _married_!), but Finn prized her wellbeing far above any decrees of modesty and sought to comfort her through any means possible.

"You are not your mother." Finn said tenderly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, hoping to assuage her tense feelings. "I am incredibly sorry for the tragedy that befell your family. I cannot begin to express my deepest sympathies for this new knowledge about them that you must find within yourself to come to terms. And please understand that you may confide in me your deepest, darkest feelings about them at any time at any place, and I will be your strongest confidant if you allow me to be. But as of now, something within me is urging me to convince you that you, my darling, are not your mother."

Rachel's eyes flashed angrily, "How can you be so sure? I have this, this _fire _inside of me, and it only grows stronger, and I've not done a _thing _about it! I have these _dreams_, Finn. And yet, I am currently being courted by my father's apprentice who has absolutely _no _intent of leaving Lyme, and I am not sure my affections for him even match the ones that I claim to have. That's no different than _she_, Finn! And what's more! She was attached to someone unattainable and could not love her back, and-" Rachel halted, sending Finn a nervous glance, almost as if she were remembering the identity of her audience. "I-I'm just unbearably unsettled in mind, right now."

"Rachel," Finn brought the hand not currently occupying her own to her head and began to stroke her head, softly. He daringly, yet gently, pulled out the pins that held her hair captive in a twisted up-do that has – I can certainly vouch - bewitched all young ladies at her age, allowing her hair to cascade down past her shoulders in soft, loose curls. He continued to stroke her hair, bringing a curl to his lips, kissing it lightly. "The only thing I know, my dear, is if I were to wear a signet ring with a lock of _this _hair like Mr. St. James has, I would consider myself to be the luckiest man in the entire world."

Rachel reached her hand to stroke his own hair, his forehead, his eyebrow. "You are mistaken," Rachel murmured. "He does not own such a ring or the hair that is needed to reside in it, though it isn't for lack of trying on his end."

Finn cupped Rachel's face with both hands, silently relishing that her eyes had already closed from the contact. "Good," Finn whispered huskily before kissing her forehead. He slowly, painstakingly pulled away, and watched as Rachel opened her eyes, a flicker of disappointment crossing them, yet the emotion could've very well been his wildly cruel imagination.

"Sleep well, Miss Berry. I pray you will have sweet dreams to chase away your doubts and fears of the day." Though everything within Finn screamed for him to stay with her, he wouldn't dream of even thinking of taking advantage of her at such a vulnerable state. Her feelings for Jesse St. James –whether pleasing or foul – mattered not while she was still attached to the fellow. And while that was still very much the case, he would not allow himself to indulge in his own.

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><p><em>My dearest Rachel - <em>

_I am – once more - writing to inquire of your lack of letters these past few weeks. Should I be concerned that a handsome stranger has swept you off your feet and you are currently in their company? I write that tongue-in-cheek, of course. Still, you ought to know that I earnestly await your return in less than a week's time._

_I look forward to seeing you, darling. _

_Yours,_

_Jesse St. James_

Rachel reread the letter, intent on keeping her conflicting emotions at bay. A part of her was excited to see Jesse again, yet another part was – dare she say – _saddened _by the idea that her days with Finn in such tight quarters were coming to an end. Finn and Rachel were to travel back to Lyme in the same carriage – William claiming it to be the most sensible solution with an almost imperceptible twinkle in his eye. She wondered how Jesse would react once he witnessed Mr. Finn Hudson being the one to help her with her bags. She really ought to have written him about the coincidental visitor, but alas! it was too late for anything now, and dwelling on her blunder would profit nothing. She only hoped that Jesse's happiness from their reunion would overshadow the oversight.

She freed her mind of thoughts of Jesse and focused her attention on another, older letter that had been stealthily slipped under her door not two weeks ago.

_Rachel –_

_I feel I have done a foul job in responding to the news that you shared with me about your family the previous evening. Though we spoke briefly of your mother, I know you have shame for what your father has done in the past, and while I cannot condone his hurtful actions back then, I also do not condemn his uncommon preference in love. I wanted to be clear that you know that I still consider your father an upstanding, kind gentleman, and knowledge of his attraction to his own sex – forgive me for being so crass – has not changed my opinion of him. I hope you know that. _

_I regret that the day is close at hand when we are to depart this place that I've grown to love deeply. Still, I will have a very agreeable traveling companion to ease the parting blow. _

_With warmest regards – even if you are a room away!_

_Finley Hudson_

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><p>AN: Thank you for your kind words and reviews! Can I say again how much I LOVE Jesse and am so PUMPED to see him in episodes, soon?


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Your reviews for this fic have been so kind! I'm shocked that my Austenian writing is believable, but I'm definitely thrilled you think so! I hope you enjoy this next installment. As always, keep reviewing and hitting up this story.

Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor Jane Austen

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><p>Rachel Berry certainly had come to find an agreeable fellow houseguest in Finn Hudson, therefore it was no surprise that she found an agreeable traveling companion in him, as well. The journey was longer than she would've preferred to travel on the road, but he had made the trip far more enjoyable than she could have ever hoped.<p>

After several moments of comfortable silence, Finn spoke up, a bit of hesitance resonating in his tone. "Rachel - forgive me for the intrusiveness of this question, but will you and I maintain this _closeness_ that we have seemed to fall into once we return to our own households?" He glanced at her sideways, hands clenched tight on the reins.

Colour tinted Rachel's cheeks as she replied, "Why, yes - of course. I daresay you have grown quite dear to me, Finn Hudson. I would be a fool to sever that."

"I qute agree, Miss Berry. Not that I think you a fool or – actually, I find you quite intelligent and – I am just in agreement with you ab-about _us_." Finn continued softly, "I've grown very fond of you, Rachel."

Rachel's heart warmed from his words, and she cast her eyes downward, pursing her lips, a faint blush warming her cheeks.

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><p>Finn tightened his hands on the reins, pulling up in front of the Berry estate. He inwardly groaned at the sight of Mr. St. James exiting the house, making his way to the carriage.<p>

"Looks like you've a welcome party, Miss Berry." Rachel looked confused by his words, and he gestured to her beau steadily walking towards them, a scowl emerging on his face. "And I think he has just taken notice to your traveling companion."

Finn quietly stepped off the carriage, and offered Rachel his hand to help her do the same. Sharing one last, brief glance with the other, they slowly set off to meet Mr. St. James.

"Rachel! Dearest! You're here at last! And with a rather surprising escort, I might add. How do you do - _Studson_, was it?" Jesse had beckoned Rachel to his side almost immediate once she was within reach, and extended a hand to Finn. Finn shook the offered hand, not being blinded to the crushing grip Jesse had on him or the fury behind his expression.

"_Hudson_." Finn corrected through clenched teeth.

He could see Rachel sense the palpable tension, which is why he was not surprised when she quickly spoke up – her voice betraying her nerves underneath.

"Jesse, Mr. Hudson – purely by chance - happened to be another houseguest of the Schuesters. Neither of us knew of the other's connections with the couple. Is that not a laughable coincidence?"

"Believe me dearest, I'm laughing on the inside." Jesse's smile was grim.

"Right. I'll just fetch your things, then, Miss Berry." Finn made a move to turn and walk to the carriage, urging himself to keep his ill-willed feelings for Jesse at bay.

"Mr. Hudson. I quite have her under control now. You may relinquish your duties to me, at this time."

Finn was taken aback from his words, and he spoke the next through gritted teeth. "Pardon me, Mr. St. James, but you have _whom _under control? Because I am certain I must have misheard you – surely you were not referring to the lovely Miss Berry as a horse or heifer, now were you?"

Jesse threw a possessive arm around Rachel, sparing Finn one last glance, choosing to ignore Finn's accusation. "Come dearest, it is time for our daily duet, and I daresay you may have the potential to sound almost as good as me this round. Your father and slave are waiting for us, Rachel." Rachel began to protest about Jesse's wording, but he immediately shushed her.

"_Slave_? Are you really as foul as you appear, Mr. St. James? The woman's name is Mercedes, and she is Rachel's dearest friend. And you will treat her as such." Finn was so consumed with incredulity at Jesse's dismissal of Rachel's confidant, that he failed to notice Rachel's look of overwhelming adoration for him.

"_Mr. Hudson_. I believe your supervision is no longer a necessity – though I cannot quite imagine if it ever was such to begin with– if you will kindly see yourself off the Berry property and leave Miss Berry and I alone, we will be much obliged."

Finn seethed silently with rage, desperately wanting to give Jesse a piece of his mind, but he kept his temper in check, holding his tongue. Sparing Rachel one last parting glance, he swiftly mounted the carriage and exited the grounds.

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><p>It had been several day s since Rachel's return, and the Berry estate buzzed with normalcy and routine once more. Jesse showered Rachel with affection, and she knew it would not be long before he asked for her hand in marriage. The thought of the impending proposal should have made Rachel feel positively gleeful, but instead she felt guilty and dreaded the fateful day.<p>

Her father's voice broke through her thoughts, "Daughter. A word?"

Rachel set down her brush on her vanity and followed her father to his office, "You wanted to see me, Father?" She sat down on the offered sofa that faced her father who was currently occupying the chair behind the desk.

Mr. Berry wrung his hands together before glancing up at his daughter. He sighed deeply, and Rachel desperately wanted to know what had occurred to put her father in such of state of unsettlement. "Have you given any thought to your future with my apprentice, Mr. St. James? He has grown quite fond of you, dear Rachel. I daresay he is ready to make you an offer of marriage. And would that please you, dear girl?"

Rachel gazed at her lap, searching for the right words to answer her darling father, "I suppose the offer would not _displease _me, Father."

Mr. Berry stared at her with thinly veiled disbelief. "Mr. St. James is a respectable man and while his narcissistic quirks leave something to be desired, I do believe he would take great care of you, dear girl."

Rachel nodded in agreement, "I do not doubt that, Father. He is a fine man, to be sure."

"Then what makes you so hesitant, dear Rachel?" Mr. Berry's scrutinizing stare was unnerving, and Rachel tried to keep her composure while meeting his unwavering gaze.

"Is this the sole reason you beckoned for me to join you in your office?" Rachel hoped a change in the topic of conversation might rescue her from answering the question that she herself had been wondering during many a sleepless night.

Rachel succeeded in diverting her father's attention, and he sat up straighter, shaking his head in response. "I just – forgive me, Rachel – but it appears I am a bit in the dark about certain events as of late. Your former acquaintance, Mr. Hudson – the fellow that you _assured_ me you had broken off contact with – came to see me this morning in the most unsightly of ways."

Rachel leaned forward, earnestly, "What is it, Father? Is he alright? Did something happen to his dear mother? Did something happen to him? Is he taken with illness?" She fired questions to a behooved father at an unbecoming rapid pace, and she did not realize she had sprung out of her seat until her father gestured for her to sit back down.

"No, no, dear girl. Nothing like that, Rachel. He just wanted to discuss some important matters. He's quite healthy and well, I assure you."

Rachel exhaled heavily, relief seeping into her bones as her father continued. "I must say, Rachel, his visit coupled with your behavior is very perplexing to your dear old man. Did we not discuss you cutting off ties with him? Regardless of the fact of him being unattached now, I still think it best that you focus on your union with Mr. St. James and ignore any other – shall we call them – _distractions_."

"And what if Mr. St. James is the true distraction, Father? What then?" Rachel angrily stood up and left the office, fully ignoring her father's beckonings.

_How _dare _he? _After all that she had learned of her father from Cousin Emma, she found it increasingly difficult to listen to her father's rationale. She thought he of all people might understand difficult matters of the heart. But she was wrong. And now, once again, she was all alone in her romantic plight.

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><p>Within the month that Rachel had returned to Lyme, she received a cordial visit from a most unexpected caller. Glancing at the woman's name on the calling card that had been delivered to her, Rachel followed Mercedes to the foyer to accept the visitor's request to see her in person.<p>

"Miss Berry." Quinn Puckerman curtsied - as much as her large, protruding stomach allowed her to, shedding her delicate, lace gloves afterward.

"Mrs. Puckerman." Rachel curtsied back but could not conceal the confusion that occupied her features. Nevertheless, she played along and allowed Quinn to announce her intent for the visit.

"I am sure that you have heard about the small gathering Mr. Puckerman and I are to throw in two weeks time to celebrate our new home. The town has been abuzz with talk of this most anticipated event, and I have come to personally invite you and your suitor to the party." Quinn gave Rachel a small, forced smile, handing her an ornately decorated invitation.

Rachel stared at her name embossed in gold lettering on the envelope she now held in her hand. She lifted her eyes to meet Quinn's sparkling ones. "Though I am honored that Mr. St. James and I are invited to such an event, you will forgive me for being a bit confused. I did not think you wanted anything to do with me." Quinn gave Rachel a blank look that encouraged Rachel to explain herself further. "When we were not yet eight years of age, you drew a picture of me in a most unbecoming state on the front of the dance cards that were presented to guests at an event in your honor. When we were twelve, you told the boy who would become your husband to give me a shove whenever I encountered him. When we were –"

"Alright, alright. That is quite enough." Quinn held up a hand, silencing Rachel. "It is true that I am not innocent in events pertaining to those matters. I do not deny it. Becoming a married woman with child is maturing in more ways than you can imagine, and though we are the same age in all technicalities, I feel practically a _decade _your elder. And my aged self is urging me to reconcile with you."

Rachel chose to ignore the slight condensation and gave Quinn a small, grateful smile. "Then I am happy to say that my beau and I will be in attendance."

Quinn clapped her hands together. "Splendid! I must now bid you _adieu_, but I will anxiously await your arrival at our gathering. Good day, Miss Berry."

Quinn's curtsy preceded Rachel's own. "And to you, Mrs. Puckerman." Rachel hesitated before impulsively adding, "You know you may call me Rachel – now that we are friends."

Quinn smiled, "_Almost _friends, Rachel. And you may still call me Mrs. Puckerman." And with one last flourish, she left the manor, leaving Rachel to smile good-naturedly at her parting words. Quinn did indeed make certain strides today, and Rachel found comfort in the old French proverb she had painstakingly stitched on her very first needlepoint pillow.

_Rome was not made all in one day._

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><p>The gala was indeed designated to be a small affair, but as Rachel took in the gathering, <em>small<em> was most assuredly a vast understatement. Rachel could only assume that the Puckermans received funding from the Fabrays – I've no doubt Quinn's married state pleased her parents, ending the illicit scandal that was the topic of much gossip around the town and encouraging them to involve themselves in Mrs. Puckerman's life once more. Nevertheless, the breathtaking Puckerman estate was on full display, and I am certain not one houseguest dared to even _think _of Mr. Puckerman's past occupation of a mere stablehand.

Rachel and Jesse entered the house arm-in-arm and once announced, they journeyed over to the parlor where Rachel happily spotted Kurt Hummel. Releasing herself from Jesse's hold, she hastily made his way over to the small man and greeted him warmly.

"Kurt! It has been so long since we've last spoken. I trust you are well?"

Kurt grinned widely. "I am, and I thank you, Rachel. And how are things with you? I see you and Mr. St. James arrived together. Tell me, darling, are you engaged?"

Rachel quickly showed Kurt her bare left hand before covering his mouth, looking at him with wild eyes. "Must you be so loud, Kurt? I am not engaged, and I would prefer there not be rumours that follow me that might state otherwise, because of your poor attempt to hold your tongue."

Kurt threw his head back and laughed heartily once Rachel had released him, "Oh how I've missed your insanity. It was a simple question, Rachel. And I am not the only one that asks it." Kurt's smile was secretive, and Rachel was about to question said smile if Kurt didn't grip her shoulders abruptly, turning her in time to catch the tender gaze of the one man – looking quite dashing as always - who had been kept locked up in her secret heart of hearts. Her warm smile quickly diminished when she spotted her current suitor make his way to Mr. Hudson. She covered her eyes, ignoring Kurt's jest about dramatics, slowly peeking at the pair through her fingers.

_No good could come from this exchange._

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><p>"Mr. Hudson," Jesse stuck out a hand to Finn, and Finn grasped it, squeezing tightly, secretly reveling in Jesse's pained expression before releasing him.<p>

"Mr. St. James. I see you finally remembered my name."

Jesse smirked, "Oh, I've always remembered it – I pride myself on my impeccable memory, you know – I have just chosen not to use it. Of course the name I prefer to call you is one I cannot say here, for it would be terribly inappropriate at a gathering where ladies are present."

Finn laughed humourlessly, "Luckily for you, Mr. St. James, there _are _indeed ladies present – _one _lady in particular whose affection you are in no shape or form of deserving." _The _nerve _of this man! _They had not spoken more than two words to each other, and already, Jesse possessed no qualms in insulting him.

"I am going to choose not to answer that retort with a remark, Mr. Hudson. I see wounded pride in your expression, and I am sure your poor attempt to hide your jealousy is clouding your judgment in what comes out of that simple-minded trap of yours." Jesse examined his fingernails with a bored expression, and his visible disinterest angered Finn even more.

"Your insults do nothing to conceal the fact that you did nothing to dispute my original statement. You must know that Miss Rachel Berry deserves much more than you can give her." Finn's tone became more affectionate and less guarded while talking about the lady in question – a fact that did not go unnoticed by Jesse.

"And you think _you_—the _laughingstock _of Lyme – can? Or do you think Rachel will wait several _months _instead of several _days _to open her legs to the help? Ironically, it appears that the chaste ones are more than willing for a romp in the sack. That certainly gives me hope, regarding my tight little Rachel – wonder if she's as _tight _as she-"

Finn's fist flew out of its own accord and Jesse fell to the ground. Finn slowly unclenched his fists, watching Jesse stare at him in disbelief and malice, covering his blackening left eye.

"_Finn!_" Rachel's frantic voice reminded him of his location, and he took in the small crowd that had gathered around him and Jesse. Rachel stared in shock, eyes flickering back and forth between the two rivals before turning on her heel and fleeing the scene.

Since the damage had already been done, Finn possessed no misgivings in continuing the heated exchange. He made his way over to Jesse, still on the floor, and seized his collar roughly. "If I _ever _hear you speak of Miss Berry in such a way again, I will have no qualms in matching your right eye with the left," Finn threatened in a low growl. He released his grip on Jesse and stalked out of the parlor.

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><p>AN: Definitely thought I was going to end this chapter in a different way. Funny how muses work!

As much I love Jesse (and I do!), I've always felt a bit slighted that Finn hasn't punch him on the show - well besides the punch that Jesse avoided like a ninja. What can I say? Angry Finn plus Jealous Finn is hot!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I guess it's mandatory after an impromptu hiatus to come back with a short chapter. I'm extremely sorry this story has been on hold for so long. I have not yet mastered the art of writing through lack of inspiration. I'm still a baby writer, quite honestly. Just know, that I'm always, always thinking of this story. Computer issues also don't help matters, either. At all.

For those of you who still wanna take this journey with me, I applaud you! I hope you enjoy the next installment.

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><p>Rachel could not <em>believe <em>Finn's actions. To behave in such a deplorable manner – to cause such an unwarranted, bawdy display at a party of a woman who was finally beginning to treat her with small morsels of respect – to show brute force at a societal gathering was simply unacceptable.

"Rachel!" She sharply turned to find Finn running after her.

"Are you _completely _out of your mind, Finn Hudson?! I have _never _been privy to such a tawdry and boorish display in all my life. And for _what_?! To establish some severely misguided role of masculinity - or is it simply the fact that you just really despise my beau that much?" Rachel was working hard to suppress her temper, but with each tender look Finn gave her, her emotions rose. "It was deplorable, contemptible, and I thought you were of a higher standard than what I saw."

"I regret my actions, Miss Berry, but I was simply defending your honor." Finn stood in front of her, head bowed low, speaking quietly. His humbled demeanor caused Rachel to cease her ranting, and she touched his arm tentatively, silently encouraging him to continue. "He was saying absolutely despicable things about your good name, something inside me just _snapped_."

Rachel was perplexed by his answer. "What kind of despicable things were said about me, Finn?"

Finn shook his head roughly, refusing to meet her eyes. "The kind that I would be a fool to repeat in the presence of a lady like yourself."

Rachel looked at Finn and back at the front door of the Puckerman manor where Jesse was most likely awaiting her aid. "Finn," she said slowly – as if the wrong word could scare him away like a baby bird. "I do not need my battles fought for me. Though I would be lying if I said I didn't happen to appreciate the drama of it all, I am horribly embarrassed by your rash actions no matter _what _was said of me. The tentative friendship that I was to embark with Mrs. Puckerman is all but ruined from your outburst."

Finn shot her a disbelieving look, "Pray tell when you've been concerned about forming a friendship with my former steady."

"Regardless of her past indiscretions, she still has a lot of power in the town, and I'd be a fool to sever ties with her when an acquaintanceship with her could be quite beneficial."

"Is that all you care for then? Is your blasted reputation more important than your relationships? I thought _you _were of a higher standard, Miss Berry." Rachel withered under his scrutinizing look, and she sought for a change of conversation to rescue her from his judging gaze.

"Why did you visit my father a couple weeks ago? What business could you possibly have in meeting with him?" Rachel blurted out.

Finn opened and closed his mouth several times before speaking. "I would prefer not to divulge that information at this present time, Miss Berry. And do not try and divert my attention. You are so much more than you know. You don't need the public's general approval of you. The Rachel Berry I know doesn't need general approval from anyone."

"Yes, well. Things change, Mr. Hudson. Jesse has emphasized to me the importance of approval from others, and I daresay he is quite right." Rachel stuck her nose haughtily in the air, daring Finn to speak ill of Jesse.

"Are you really choosing to remain with him? After the way he talked about you?" Finn spat, clenching his fists.

"Mr. Hudson, you know I value our friendship. I'm asking you – as my friend – to trust me." Rachel's voice was quieter and she waited on baited breadth for his reply.

"Of course I trust you, Miss Berry. But can you not see you deserve more? When are you going to realize that his affections for you do not match that of my own?" Finn grabbed her hand as he continued - his voice thick with emotion. "Do you want to hear the reason I went to see your father? I was asking for his permission to marry you."

Rachel gasped, letting go of his hand as if it had burned her. "I don't understand."

"I know you are still being courted by another. And I was not going to say anything, but then Jesse showed me his true colours, and it would be a disservice to you if I had held my tongue. This goes far beyond what is proper, and I understand that, but you deserve to know." The last thing he said was uttered so matter-of-factly and intimately, that Rachel had great trouble in catching her breath. "I love you." Finn put a finger under her chin and gently guided her closer, leaning in for a –

Rachel backed away, cursing herself for being swept up in her emotions. "I can't."

Finn looked at her with pleading eyes. "Don't go back to him. Take a chance on me."

As much as Rachel wanted to meet his lips for a soft kiss, she knew she had to figure out her feelings first – as well as comprehend the fact that she was just proposed to by her secret knight. "I'm sorry, Finn. I can't. I have to go find Jesse."

Rachel walked away slowly back to the estate, not oblivious to Finn's heartbroken, stricken look as he watched her depart.

Rachel's head swam, and she could no longer hold back her tears. Did Finn really just _propose _to her?! He told her he loved her. He loved her. He _loved _her. Words said that she had been waiting to hear since their very first stolen kiss in her carriage. He loved her. And he wanted to _marry _her. And she had never felt more conflicted.

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><p>"Rachel! <em>Dearest<em>. I was wondering when I would find you sitting vigil by my bedside in my ill state!" Jesse extended a hand to Rachel, dismissing one of the Puckerman servants who was currently tending to the pompous man. The servant seemed relieved to relinquish his job to Rachel, and he fled the parlor in a way that made Rachel think that the man was fearful Jesse might change his mind. "And why, my dear, were you nowhere to be found when I needed you the most?" Jesse continued in an accusing manor.

_I was asking for his permission to marry you. To marry you. Marry you. You. _

Rachel shook her head violently, as if attempting to physically shake away the new thoughts that had been swarming in her mind ever since Finn's confrontation. "Well, Jesse, if you must know – I had to step outside for some air. Watching you fall to the floor like that – it really gave me a fright, dear." Rachel hoped her explanation was believable, and her statement did possess at the very least a half-truth. She was concerned for Jesse's wellbeing – she was being courted by him, after all.

"Well, dearest Rachel – I would hope that next time such a tragedy befall me, that you would rush to my side and not flee in the opposite direction."

"Pardon me, Jesse, but a _tragedy_? Do you not think that you are being a tad theatrical? It is but a blackened eye, my dear." Rachel knew she had the tendency to lean slightly toward the dramatics, but Jesse was turning this whole occurrence into a much greater worry than what had actually transpired. Before Jesse could answer, a voice boomed throughout the estate, and Jesse nearly fell from the long sofa he was currently lying upon. Rachel brought a hand to her lips to stifle her amusement at the comical scene, but Jesse caught her in the act and gave her a piercing glare.

"If I could have the attention of the gentlemen and ladies present - I'd like to commence the entertainment portion of the evening – though it would appear that a bit of _unwarranted _entertainment did precede this part. Regardless, if anyone of you possess a song you'd like to share, Mr. Ellis, our fine accompanist for the evening will be glad to play for you. And now! Who is our first brave soul?" Mr. Abrams, the lame facilitator of festivities of the evening wheeled away once a fellow volunteered and gestured to the _pianoforte _and the scowl-faced ginger-haired man upon it. For the first time in her life, Rachel possessed no desire to perform and simply relied on other houseguests to entertain everyone for the evening. She tuned out the performers and silently tended to Jesse – already feeling exhausted by the turn of events.

It was not until the third performer opened his mouth to speak did Rachel nearly snap her neck in turning it so quickly to watch the man in question.

"Err – hello, everyone," Finn began awkwardly. "I am not as comfortable as a singer as – say, the fair Miss Berry, but I do hope you'll oblige me for this one moment."

Curiosity surged through Rachel, and she wondered about his cryptic words. Yet, when she heard a bit of the words sung, her heart sank – much like the ship Finn sang about.

_The water is wide, I cannot get o'er/And neither have I wings to fly/O go and get me some little boat/To carry o'er my true love and I._

_I put my hand into one soft bush/Thinking the sweetest flow'r to find,/I prick'd my finger to the bone,/And left the sweetest flow'r alone._

She had heard his voice before when he had sung with her on that fateful night at the Fabray estate. He also sung to her a bit during their stay at the Schuester's, but she had never heard such an honest performance from him. She felt like they were the only two in the room and everyone else faded into nothingness while he serenaded her with the heartfelt words.

_I leaned my back up against some oak,/Thinking it was a trusty tree,/But first he bended and then he broke,/So did my love prove false to me._

Rachel caught Finn's fast glance over to the Puckermans, sensing tension. A pang of jealousy surprised her and when his eyes returned to hers – as they had been the entire song – the pang left as swiftly as it had come.

_Where love is planted, O there it grows,/It buds and blossoms like some rose,/It has a sweet and a pleasant smell,/No flow'r on earth can it excel._

_Must I be bound, O and she go free!/Must I lovepone that does not love me!/Why should I act such a childish part,/And love a girl that will break my heart._

Tears collected in Rachel's eyes as she witnessed Finn brokenly sing the verse, ignoring Jesse's piercing glare as he looked at the two

_There is a ship sailing on the sea,/She's loaded deep as deep can be,/But not so deep as in love I am;/I care not if I sink or swim._

_O love is handsome and love is fine,/And love is charming when it is true;/As it grows older it growth colder/And fades away like the morning dew._

_The water is wide./ I cannot get o'er/And neither have I wings to fly/O go and get me some little boat/To carry o'er my true love and I._

Polite clapping sounded after his ballad, and Finn bowed his head gratefully and retreated away from the _pianoforte_, avoiding Rachel's stare.

An audible _humph _was heard beside Rachel, and she turned to her companion. "Mediocre performance at best. While emotion was present for the most part, he sounded a bit like a fellow in the middle of a bowel movement."

Rachel simply stared at Jesse. After several uncomfortable moments, Jesse awkwardly cleared his throat. "Did I say something to offend you, dearest?"

Rachel closed her eyes for a time before opening them to look directly into his. Through gritted teeth she spoke, "I would greatly appreciate you refraining from calling me 'dearest' ever again. As far as I am concerned – Mr. St. James – this courtship is terminated."

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><p>AN: Again, "first I must tell you I've been the most unmitigated and comprehensive ass." Please forgive my lengthy absence.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Enjoy. Thanks for your reviews and staying with me.

Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor Jane Austen.

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><p>It had been several weeks since the infamous gathering at the Puckermans. Rachel had not encountered Mr. Hudson in that time, and Mr. St. James was relentless in his pursuit in earning back her love. <em>Love<em>. Was that what she had felt for Mr. St. James? She had thought not, but he was making every effort to be kind, and despite the warnings Emma had revealed to her about loveless unions, would it really be that awful? Mr. Hudson was nowhere to be found, and she grieved over what might have been. The song he had sung for almost felt like a goodbye. She wished it were not so, but she couldn't fight the aching, sinking feeling in the depths of her secret soul. She had shared everything in a letter to her cousin and eagerly anticipated Emma's response. When it arrived, Rachel slit the envelope open to read the much sought out advice. The letter read as follows:

_My dear, dear sweet cousin -_

_How troubled in spirit you must be! If Mr. Schuester and I would have known the history you shared with one Mr. Hudson, we would never have urged his visitation at the same time as yours. Because you were painstakingly honest with me, I feel I would fail as a cousin if I not do the same now. _

_To be quite candid with you - dear cousin - my husband and I invited you both to vacation with us, because we had hoped a match would come of it. Ever since Mr. Hudson was quite young, Mr. Schuester had always considered him like a younger brother or son of sorts and spoke nothing but good things of him. Any encounter I've had with him as been most favorable - to be sure. And you are well aware of how much I admire you, and so William and I foolishly came up with a plan. We sought to execute our (what we thought) brilliant scheme to pair you together. _

_Though we fear it has done more harm than good. Once again, had we known of your past encounters, we would have never thought to do anything so thoughtless. And I feel I must apologize for not respecting your choice in suitors and inviting Finley along anyway. _

_And so dear cousin, I'm afraid my meddling must come to an end. I know you seek an answer from me, but I fear any that I give will pale into comparison to the one in your own heart. I know I speak from impracticability, but in this instance, your happiness is all that matters - and only you are privy the key to having such. _

_Be blessed in whatever path you may choose. Know you have my love and deepest affections always._

_Your most doting cousin,_

_Emma Schuester_

Rachel sighed. Of course her cousin would implement some sort of lesson in all this. Never straightforward, Emma was always one to simply offer guidance and counsel, allowing Rachel to decide things for herself. She huffed, rather immaturely. Emma was no help, Mercedes was staying cryptically silent (an almost impossible feat for the otherwise brazen maidservant), and Mr. Hummel simply commented on her weight loss and pale complexion, urging her to take better care of herself.

That left her one last person. The person she had feared to confront after their slight falling out.

She walked with determined steps to the office and knocked on the door. The voice inside urged her to step in the room. With a steely resolve, she opened the door and sat herself down on the sofa, staring down the man behind his desk.

"Father. There is a pressing matter that we really ought to discuss."

* * *

><p>After what seemed like hours - but in all actuality was only minutes - Mr. Berry rubbed his face in a worrisome manner, no doubt reeling from the information Rachel had shared. She had left the more - shall we say - <em>intimate <em>details out of the story but still divulged the confusing feelings she had pertaining to Mr. Hudson and Mr. St. James.

"Papa. Please say something." Rachel could bear the judgmental silence no further, regardless of the consequences.

"There is not much to be said, darling," Mr. Berry sighed wearily. "And do you love this Hudson boy, Rachel?"

"He's not a boy. He's a _man. _One that I've come to respect dearly." Rachel shifted her gaze down. "And as to your question, I'd prefer not to answer that - at this moment. I'm far too confused by my own misgivings to give a response to such a weighty inquiry."

Mr. Berry shook his head roughly. "_No_. Dear girl, Mr. St. James is a _man_. He is older than Mr. Hudson by many years and will provide for you accordingly. Mr. Hudson is barely a year your senior. And you are but sixteen."

"You and I both know of Finn's father's army ranking. Finn has been well provided for - and him being the sole heir of the Hudson estate equips him with more than enough to provide for me. So that certain argument is worthless, and you know it to be true."

Mr. Berry angrily slammed his fist on the table. "I will _not _have my daughter gallivanting about with a person who bears no doubts in making rash decisions and not accounting for his actions."

Rachel stood up, peering down at her father as threateningly as her five-foot three-inch stature allowed her to do so.

"And what actions are these?! What could you possible hold against Finn?"

Mr. Berry stood, towering over his daughter. "What of the fact of his former beau becoming with child? What of the fact of defacing his father's good name with scandal? What of passing the woman to her stablehand when he couldn't handle the demands of fatherhood and husbandry? What of these things, Rachel?"

Rachel hastily made her way to the door, gripping the handle and turning to face her father once more, venom dripping from her tone. "He has remained pure this entire time, Father. Quinn tricked him into thinking they had sexual relationships and tried to pass a baby - that he had not fathered - as his own anyway. He not only kept separated himself from her quietly - so that Quinn's name would not become even more sullied - but he cared so much for the baby, that he arranged and paid for the entire marriage of the child's actual birth parents so the child would not grow up in a divided and scandalized household. He is the kindest, most respectable, most honorable man I've ever met, and it would do you good credit to acknowledge him as such." She walked calmly back towards Mr. Berry, challenging him to a response. When he gave none, but simply bowed his head in amazement at what he learned, she made her way back to the exit.

Before she left, she heard her father mutter softly. "It would appear you've already made your decision."

Rachel spun around, her eyes soft. She couldn't help but smile at her epiphany. "Yes. I suppose I have."

"Are you quite sure, my dear daughter? Shouldn't practicality have a hand in this? On paper, you and Mr. St. James are quite perfect for each other."

Rachel smiled sadly. "Isn't that what people used to say about you and my mother? You want to know an interesting difference between Finn and Jesse? The former does not condemn a man for having feelings for one of his own sex. The latter does and finds it very fortunate that _neither _of our families take part in said activities." She gave her father a meaningful look and watched as his jaw fell open in astonishment.

She left without another word.

Rachel was well aware her conversation with her father was far from over, but she had another, more pressing matter to focus on - finding her dear Mr. Hudson.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm exceedingly grateful for your reads and reviews! Also, I realize now that Emma and Rachel being cousins is a bit of a stretch appearance-wise, but I thank you for glossing over that little detail!


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